A Child Called “It”

What is it? Everyone in the pick-up was stretching their neck, looking intently down the old wagon trail. Way up ahead, it moved again.

Again, the question: what is it?

Stop, let’s just watch and see what it does. Let’s get closer, but be careful, it might be wild and bite.

Very slowly, they descended, getting closer as everyone held their breath. It was a tense few moments.

There it is again!

It’s a weird small animal, some said.

Get closer but be ready to step on the gas, Gramma said. It might chase us.

Everyone held their breath, ok, now closer, someone else said, slowly.

They were about twenty feet from it.

It’s strange, listen, it’s crying, it’s human, it’s a child!!

Two adults got out of the pickup slowly, careful not to frighten it. It was scared, it was filthy, rags fell off its body, boy or girl, they could not tell.

Grandmother stepped forward. Grandmothers are brave.

She reached out her arms, and it stopped crying. They put the child in the pick-up, and it fell asleep.

What do we do with it? Nobody answered.

Somebody lost it, but who? Why?

The Navajo Indian reservation is large; this child is small.

What do we do with it?

We gotta find who lost it.

A few days later, still no one claimed the girl child, and no one wanted it. We gotta do something with it, they all agreed, but no one wants it.

Someone said, lets give it to deaf Helen.

All she has is her sheep. No husband, no children.

Everyone agreed. Helen was the one.

She was known as deaf Helen, that was her name and her title. She had a small shack that she built herself.

They rumbled slowly in that direction.

They saw Helen out with her sheep. Her two dogs barked, Helen saw them barking, and turned to see what the dogs saw. She could read the dog’s body movements.

She motioned for the dogs to bring the sheep into the corral.

Later, everyone sat in Helen’s one room on the dirt floor. Furniture was not known at that time.

The lost child would not sit; it stood, it kept looking at deaf Helen, deaf Helen kept looking at the child.

The child toddled toward Helen, it raised its arms to deaf Helen.

It was a match.

Helen hugged the child, and “it” snuggled into Helen’s heart.

It was a good match except Helen could not hear the child cry or try to talk. The child’s life was as silent as Helen’s.

One day, the child was old enough to attend school. It was one room with an outhouse out back.

The child listened to the other children laugh and play. She didn’t know what school was all about.

She attended school until it confused her, until she couldn’t think. She went home to Helen and stayed there.

Helen, the sheep, and “it” became a family.

“It” still didn’t have a name.

One day, a teacher from the school visited Helen, and “it”. The teacher was kind and brought story books to the girl.

They became friends.

The teacher decided to give “it” a name.

Your name is “Machele,” the teacher said.

The girl liked it and became “somebody,” I am Machele she said over and over.

Machele loved the books. She grew, she talked to the dogs, and read the books out loud to herself.

Machele grew up, and Helen grew old.

One day, a nice Navajo man came to visit. He indicated to Helen that he wanted to marry Machele.

He also had sheep; we can bring our sheep together and be a family.

Helen agreed, “I am getting old,” she said. Machele needs someone to take care of her.

Everyone agreed.

A sheep was butchered, the medicine man arrived, and many people came to celebrate.

The family grew.

The oldest son loved school. His sponsors from PA. made his school years possible. He looked forward to every class and every new year.

The years flew by, and he signed up with the Marines. He is a sniper.

Marvin is grateful for the encouragement and prayers.

One day, another man arrived. His name was Louis L’Amour.

“Show me the old trails,” he said to Marvin’s parents.

On horseback, they traveled many miles across the reservation, discovering ancient trails and hidden caves.

Louis L’Amour would go on to become the author of many books about Native people and the Southwest.

And it all began with a child called “it.”

Love Always,

Sylvia and Sylvia