Tree Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

around the other students. I had always known Manuel to be relaxed and full of laughter, joking and teasing. Now he spoke seriously. “Would you like to help me teach the older children also?” he asked.
    I was honored, but Manuel’s question caught me by surprise. “Of course,” I said. “But why me?”
    “The older children respect you just as the younger ones do, and you know the lesson material as well as I.”
    Maybe what Manuel said was true, but his request troubled me. “Are you in danger?” I asked.
    He bit at his lip. “I’m a teacher, and you and many of my other students have learned Spanish. That puts all of us in danger.”
    I didn’t understand Manuel’s concern. Our Mayan people spoke many languages. Manuel had taught us Spanish because the cantóns in different regions couldn’t understand one another. Each cantón needed someone who spoke Spanish to communicate for trade and barter. This gave everyone a common language, a lingua franca.
    “Gabriela,” Manuel said. “War has come to our country, and Spanish is the language the cantóns will use to communicate when they need to fight their enemies. The soldiers know this, and already they’re killing Indios who can speak Spanish. You and I are among those they wish to kill. Knowing Spanish places us in great danger.”
    “Would they really kill us?” I asked.
    Manuel snapped his fingers. “That fast,” he said. “You must be watchful and careful to not speakSpanish after you leave school each day. Do you understand?”
    “Yes,” I said, nodding. I had never seen Manuel so serious. His thoughts were troubled, and he spoke urgently, as if what he had to say couldn’t wait.
    Manuel turned to me and held my shoulders. “Gabriela, your Mayan past is not a solitary wind that blows alone in the sky. The skies share many winds. Your future is shared with many cultures. Your beliefs and customs are inseparable mixtures of your Mayan past and the Spanish present that surrounds you. To succeed you needed to know Spanish and understand other cultures.”
    I nodded. It was as if Manuel were apologizing for having taught me Spanish. “Yes, I understand,” I said. “My Spanish isn’t your fault. It was part of my learning.”
    Manuel sighed. “Learning that now puts you in great danger.”
    We wandered the shore of the river for some distance without speaking. Maybe Manuel still felt guilty for having taught me Spanish. “Manuel, I needed toknow Spanish,” I insisted. “You’ve taught me many things to prepare me for the future.”
    “Knowing Spanish, and knowing this or that, doesn’t prepare you for the future. Your future is found in discovering the right questions and having the courage to ask them. Good questions are always more important than good answers, but it takes courage to ask. You may understand
how
you live, Gabriela, but do you understand
why
you live?”
    I wasn’t sure I understood what Manuel was trying to tell me. Sometimes he frustrated me. He seldom told me anything directly. He danced around with his words, making me find my own answers. “I’m afraid of all that’s happening,” I said, as we walked beside the water. “Is there anything we can do about it?”
    Manuel shrugged. “Some questions have no answers.” He paused. “But I do know this. We, the Indio, we used to have very beautiful names, like Lu, Shuan, Posh, Chep, Tey, and Catoch. Now we have very different names, because the Catholic Church came many years ago and made us change our names. They didn’t like the names of our ancestors. They toldus our names were pagan, ungodly.”
    “Was that right or wrong?” I asked, knowing even as I asked the question that Manuel would never tell me.
    “Right is whatever wind you choose beneath your wings,” he said. “No longer do all our customs and names come from our Mayan ancestors. Now they come from many winds. It’s up to you to decide which wind should carry you. You need to decide for yourself