Her feet touched the ground in
an explosion of dust and joy. Crow black hair, long and
straight, cascaded past her shoulders waving as she
twirled and leaped to the beat of the drums. It was her
day, it would be her dance. 
Earlier, in the mist of the
morning, Old Joe spoke to her. She did not know how he
came to be standing outside of her door. He only appeared
this way if a grave misdeed hap-pened in the village, or
if it was a time of deep sorrow. Sensing this, he spoke
to her of her loss. The husband who had just left for the
city, quietly, in the middle of the night, leaving only a
chaste note that said good- ye. He had taken with him his
guitar, and a younger, new woman. He left behind a young
wife and a broken heart. The old man knew of the mid-ight
departure, the growl of the motor and tires spinning in
haste over a corrugated road. He knew the different
sounds of good-bye and abandonment.
"You must be brave now, strong
for the young one inside you," he said. "You
must not waste or hurt yourself". She knew he was
thinking of the suicides in the village. His eyes, soft
and brown, crinkled in wisdom, caressed the cold-ness she
was feeling, warming her instantly. "Today is
Pow-wow. You must dance, not for the past, but for the
new life in your belly. You must dance with joy till the
child within you hears the beat of the drums. And
someday, many years from now, they will remember the day
that you danced just for them."
She twirled and leaped as a
ballerina, majestically, and with joy as the drums
reached a thunderous crescendo. The sun sparkled her eyes
as they lit on an older man watching her. He gazed at her
as though capti-vated, while his thoughts raced back to a
time long ago; to a woman that he was separated from
early in life. To a mother he never knew.
He smiled widely as the dancer spun
before him. The drums softened, hauntingly, becoming a
whisper as the man's smile sagged. Un-leashed emotions
and memories of a child's loneliness flooded his face in
a rush of tears. He did not know his Mother, he could
only imagine her beauty, but he knew there was a day that
she had danced with the world around her and inside her.
The day that she had danced with pure joy "just for
him", and had imbued his small body with the beat of
the drums. The drumbeats of the heart.

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