He gently shook his head as I started to pick up a stone. Once again I had failed to learn the lesson. Rather than get angry or frustrated with me, he simply put the stones back and motioned for me to follow him.
He went over another section of his house, this one filled with what looked like highly breakable things. With a smile and all the time in the world, he started out describing each item and how it related to the earth, wind, water or fire. He moved to items over to me, and quietly said “take, they are for you”.
And so it was that I came into treasure without even realizing it. He left the room was I was marveling over my new gift, one I would never have anticipated receiving and came back with a small bag. “Wife of many years made this, many years back. I have been waiting for it to tell me who it belongs to and now I’ve heard it tell me it is to belong to you.”
The bag was really a small pouch, intricately woven with beads and sparkle here and there. After I had admired the craftsmanship of the bag, he took it and placed the items in the bag, murmuring over them as he drew the string tight.
He admonished me to keep this near by my person at all times for the spirits would speak to me or at least guide me if I kept this close by. He also assured me that I did not have master the stones, the art of divination as he thought I had gotten what I had come for.
He was correct. I had gotten what I had come for, which wasn’t to learn the art of divination as much as it was to study how he, as a healer, used it to determine a person’s sickness. He could also find what plants and herbs needed to be used the help a person through the same process. I gathered my notes, my priceless gifts and thanked him profusely for allowing an outside into his world. He could not possibly understand how important any of these observations were to me. Instead, he told me, he felt that I was to heal people in another way.
He told me that the observations were not power, they would not do anyone any good for the power was in the healer. If I wanted to share what I had learned I could, but it wouldn’t matter in the end for the observations would just be what my eyes caught. But the other healing that he felt I had learned (I’m not so sure he’s right) would be powerful, but only if I used it as it was meant to be used.
So as I pull together my notes, a lovely bag rests on the table near my hand. The bag represents the power of kindness, faith, and hope. And if those aren’t the main ingredients in healing, I’m not sure what is.