Prayer Arrow

[Rev. Rex]

This is from a friend of mine, also following the shamanic path:

Many years ago, I was taught by a woman named Grandmother WhiteWolf to listen and talk to trees. At twelve years old, not quite understanding but intent on feeling and hearing the answer, I rambled through the path of the forest behind the camp. The Adirondak mountains in beautiful June glory, sweat from the heat sticking to my forehead and back. The trees offered shade and relief...I loved walking back there, on the dirt. A bog rests near by. Memories of my sister informing me about bog mummies came to mind every time we ventured close, and my young imaginative mind couldn't help but wonder if there might be preserved, ancient people laying under the thick earthy substance...Waiting, waiting for thousands of years to be found, to whisper evidence of their stories.

That particular day, we were sent out to find a stick...one that we would use to create a prayer arrow. Rambling along the path, I scavanged sticks along the ground, found two...picked them up, and asked the question we were told to say, "Will you be my prayer arrow?" I waited. Was that a funny feeling in my chest? Or anxious anticipation? Where are the words? How can a stick communicate, they don't speak like we do...do they? Grandmother WhiteWolf and SheWhoClimbs told us it would be a feeling in our gut like a glowing coal, or a prickly sensation in our hands. We'd know. I wasn't convinced. After several minutes of apprehension, I chose one of the sticks, set the other back, and bounded out of the forest. We were taught to wrap yarn around our stick, to say a prayer for someone we cared about. I kept my prayer arrow for years, until it began to decay under the yarn...and then it was tossed.

Prayer arrows hadn't crossed my mind until a few weeks ago. We got a call about my Grandfather being in the hospital, in very critical condition. His legs lost all circulation, they were the color of ashes, he wouldn't be able to walk again. He couldn't eat, and all his internal organs were damaged. I was here, at school, while he rested 6-7 hours away in a hospital. My sister and I started spending a lot of time together, carrying each other's spirit's, being there as a shoulder to cry on. An idea occurred, late one night. I wanted to make a prayer arrow. A thought that hadn't occurred since I was 12. My sister and I went to the vending machines, after I had a day full of stress, overwhelming crisis, and an emotional breakdown. There, in front of the doors leading to the frigid outdoor world was a thin twig. I picked it up and knew immediatly I had found my prayer arrow. The next day I left for home to be with family, and accidently forgot the twig behind. It wasn't until I returned to school and found it on my desk that I remembered my intentions.

Grandfather is doing much better. I decided that this prayer arrow would have a different focus, a different message. After coating the twig with essential oil called Prosperity, my sister dropped off the perfect colors of embroidery yarn; yellow, pastel pink, salmon pink, maroon and pastel purple.

Yellow. At the bottom, at the beginning...a symbol of childhood trust in God and my path through life. I knew before I even went into Junior high that I would serve God and help people (two leggeds and four leggeds, winged, and finned as well as the standing people, the little people...whom ever I could offer aid to.) I use to pray to God to turn me into a Guardian angel should I die young. It wasn't a matter of questioning then...I knew. Over the years, growing up as interferred with that internal knowing and trust. I pray with the yellow yarn, to remember my childhood innocence, to be illuminated one again.

Pastel pink. A lot of it, over lapping the yellow trust to symbolize love. Love for those people around me, for family, for professors, for friends, for those who are inconvinent or just different and therefore difficult to understand. A prayer to remember to always love the people around me, and to help the people around me love others in turn. A prayer for my mom to find love for her damaged internal child so that she might love herself and her husband in peace. A prayer for world love. This section was my longest.

Maroon. Overlapping the pastel love with passion. Passion for life, for education...a prayer to always thrive to keep an open mind and learn. Passion for the arts, to explore creativity, to maintain love for my future husband when we meet. To remember my passion for life, and to help others.

Salmon pink. Wisdom, touching maroon passion on both sides. That I may grow in wisdom in later years, but in mid life and old age, to remember my childhood truths and lessons. To offer wisdom and knowledge, to forever be a student and a teacher. To honor the teacher in all things.

Maroon Passion, again. Surrounding the salmon wisdom.

Pastel purple. A prayer to grow spiritually and to always be open to messages from the Great Spirit. To remember my spirital path, and to honor the spiritual path of others. To remember that Spirit is always with me, that I am loved and protected. During this, the idea of teaching a workshop at the Pagan Studies Organization meeting occurred...I have it planned for March 7th.

And finally, at the top...to finished, yellow once again. Trust and illumination on both ends, a prayer to remember in old age.

These are the colors I chose because that it was I felt should have been chosen. They do not have to represent what I've said above. This ritual helped to put my mind in focus, to be grateful to Spirit, and to remember to trust that I have a purpose in this life. The finished Prayer Arrow has been propped up on a pastel drawing of George Harrison hanging over my bed. Its in plain view as a reminder, so if I shoulder become insecure or doubtful, I can look at it and remember...all the things I prayed.

[ShyLady]

Of the of prayer arrow...