Spirit Pouch Read Online Free PDF Page B

yes,” Ty smiles as his face lights up with interest.  “Do you think it was used by the medicine man in the Rite of Purification [3] or in the Vision Quest?”
    “Maybe.  At least my mom said something about a medicine man.”  I pull the old leather bag out of my pocket and show it to Ty.  “My mom gave this to me last week.  She said it was authentic.  At least it used to belong to a Sioux medicine man.”
    “Wow!”  Ty stops to look at the leather pouch.  “What’s inside?”
    “A white stone, a feather, a glass vial, a bean, and an old necklace made of small beads,” I answer with a little skepticism in my voice.
    “That is really awesome!” Ty says pulling the leather drawstring and looking inside.  “Totally awesome!”
    “What?”  I think it is a cool gift, and I like it because it is tradition and heritage and family stuff, but I wouldn’t have said awesome.
    “Don’t you see the relationship?” Ty says shaking his head at me.  “It’s just like Brother Franklin’s seminary lesson last Friday.”
    Now it is my turn to shake my head.  “You’re nuts!” I say.  “How can even your genius brain see any relationship between a silly bag of Indian lore and last week’s seminary lesson on …”  It only takes a second to recall what the lesson was about.  Brother Franklin’s lessons are always well prepared and thought provoking.  He had taught us about John the Baptist and then about the waters of Mormon.  “… on baptism?” I finish saying.
    “My genius mind, as you call it, is good at analyzing relationships,” he says.  “Just not relationships with girls, if you know what I mean.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Think about it,” he concludes as he opens the door to the seminary building.  Sarah is standing by the classroom door and I can see my chances for further discussion of spirit pouches dissolving into a tempest of tertiary twitterpation.
    “What does the seed symbolize?” he says as he pulls up his baggy pants and adjusts his new pocket chain that hangs from his belt.
    I watch while Sarah glances over at Ty as he enters the door.  Without even smiling, she turns her back, says something quickly to another girl at the door, then moves to her seat toward the front of the class.
    Ty looks wistfully after her, then sits hard in his chair at the back of the classroom.
    “We’ll talk tonight,” I whisper, just touching Ty’s shoulder so he knows I am talking to him.  He nods his head.
    After the opening prayer Brother Franklin teaches about Elijah, and we talk about turning the hearts of the fathers to their children, and turning the hearts of the children to their fathers.  I wonder if that scripture will ever be fulfilled in my life.  It is a hopeless thought, since my father died when I was seven.  But still, as we read Malachi, chapter four verse six, I can not help wishing for that luxury in my life.
    At the end of class, Brother Franklin gives us a homework assignment.  We are to complete a four-generation pedigree chart and bring it to class on Thursday.  Then he calls on me to offer the closing prayer.  I pray that we might all strive to fulfill scripture by turning our hearts to our fathers and that we might be blessed to have the hearts of our fathers turn to us.
    After the prayer, I feel that Malachi’s promise will be fulfilled.  I do not know how, but it will be fulfilled if I do my part.
    As I pick up my books, Ty turns toward me.  “I know we were going to study tonight,” he says without enthusiasm, “but there are some things I need to do.  Can we make it Tuesday, for sure?”
    “Yeah,” I say with disappointment. “I’ll plan on Tuesday.”  I am a little relieved also, because I had not told Mom about my study plans, and she does not like me to make plans on Family Home Evening night.  I wonder what things Ty can possibly need to do that are more important than talking about girls or helping me study geometry.  I worry about him