A Visit To The Past

By Kerri Llewellyn
Hampshire High, Romney, W.Va.

It was raining hard when the door burst open at the antique shop. A young woman, dripping with water, rushed inside. She had been shopping, and, when it began to rain, noticed the shop and decided to wait out the summer storm. The building was old and rundown, but it was cool and dark. Ellen stood still and let her eyes adjust. The bright sun and then the warm rain outside was such a contrast to the interior, that it made her feel as if she had entered another world. Ellen spoke to an old Indian woman standing behind the counter. The old woman greeted Ellen as if she knew her.

As Ellen wandered she began to search for things that interested her. She visited a lot of antique shops. Ever since she was a little girl she'd heard stories of her great-great grandmother who had been kidnapped by the Cherokee Indians. Ellen was always looking for anything that might bring her closer to knowing how her ancestor must have felt living with these strangers. The girl was only 5 and must have been terrified. The stories fascinated Ellen, and she was constantly searching for things to help her learn more.

She walked slowly through the dusty aisles and at the end of a table piled high with odds and ends noticed some boxes. Ellen began to poke through them. In the bottom of one lay a bowl; it was wooden with crude carvings and was covered with dirt. She scraped at the dirt with her fingernail and realized this was a very old bowl. She grabbed a rag from the box, sat down on the floor, and began to rub away the grime. As the design began to show through, she became fascinated with the bowl. She knew from the research she had done that the bowl had been made by Indians. She had seen one similar to it in a book at the library.

The more she rubbed at the dirt, the more the wood glowed and the beauty shone through. Ellen studied the bowl and wondered about its past. She knew she had to have it. As Ellen stood to question the old woman about the price, she heard the rain stop. She looked up, realizing she was no longer inside the shop. Around her was a scene from the past.

In front of her was a field. In the field were teepees, lots of them. She felt waves of terror, curiosity, shock and wonder all at the same time. The hot sun beat down and caused a mist to rise from the damp ground. Ellen turned slowly, and a teepee appeared before her. The door flap opened and an old woman stepped out. She walked toward Ellen, muttering strange words to her. She took the bag in her hands and poured grain in the bowl Ellen held.

She handed Ellen a long stone, worn smooth; Ellen knew from pictures she'd seen that it was used to grind corn. As the old woman walked, away Ellen noticed the other people. Children played along the river bank where some women were beating wet clothing against the rocks. There were women tending fires, working with hides and sitting in groups with older people talking in a language Ellen could not understand.

Ellen turned back toward the field, wondering why she was here and how she could get back to her life. This was 1996, things like this just didn't happen. These people passed her as if she were one of them. She could not understand their language and she felt so alone. She felt she was losing her mind. How did this happen and why?

Ellen moved toward the other women and spoke; they looked at her curiously and answered in Cherokee, as if she should understand them. She felt so confused, they could understand her and treated her as if she were one of them, yet she knew this wasn't so.

In the distance a thundering noise was heard: Ellen saw a cloud of dust. The women became excited and began to gather together talking loudly. As the dust cleared, she saw horses riding in. On them sat the Indian braves dressed in their warpaint and buckskins. The horses reared as the braves screamed and raised their tomahawks in excitement.

The Indians calmed their horses and handed their families the things they had brought back from their raid. One held a child in his arms. The poor little girl was frightened and sobbing. He released the child, and she stood in the middle of them frozen with fear. The children began to taunt her, and the child searched for a familiar face. When she spotted Ellen watching her, she quieted her sobs and moved toward her.

The young woman stooped to greet the child and comfort her, for she felt as scared as this poor little soul. As the little girl approached, Ellen felt a wave of familiarity come over her. Somehow she knew this child. The girl resembled someone she'd seen before. The child stepped up and handed Ellen a doll she'd held clutched in her arms. The doll was ragged and worn with love. Ellen knew who this child was. She looked at the little girl and smiled, for now she understood why this was happening to her.

She'd seen a painting of her great-great grandmother, which had been painted before she had been kidnapped. It was of a child, clutching a doll to her chest, the same doll she now held in her hands. Tears filled Ellen's eyes as she felt such love wash over her. This experience was to show her a little about her grandparent.

Ellen stood and, wiping the tears from her eyes, once again heard the warm summer rain begin to fall. She was no longer at the camp. Once again she stood in the antique shop, now holding the doll, her grandmother's doll.

Each of these students receives a $75 gift certificate for books or software. Sponsoring teachers get $50 gift certificates.