10/14/2024
The Story of Our Soul...
Shunkmanu sat serenely on a smooth boulder under the shelter of towering pine trees, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The air was filled with the scent of pine needles and the soft murmuring of a nearby mountain stream. His grandchildren, Oliver, Nahtayu, and Ella, gathered around him on smaller rocks and patches of grass, their eyes bright with anticipation.
"Today," Shunkmanu began, his voice deep and resonant. We will talk about a mystery you carry within you, something so powerful that it transcends this physical world."
The children leaned in closer, captivated.
"Can you guess what it is?" Shunkmanu asked.
Ella gently raised her hand. "Is it our soul, Grandfather?"
Shunkmanu's eyes twinkled. "Very wise, Ella. Yes, it's our soul."
He cleared his throat and continued, "Our soul is like the pure water of this stream. It is ever-flowing, untamed by the rocks or logs that stand in its way. Our bodies, in this metaphor, are like the banks of the stream, containing the water but not defining it."
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Nahtayu nodded, thinking deeply. "So, our body is just a vessel, and our soul is what really makes us 'us'?"
"Exactly," Shunkmanu confirmed. "Your soul carries all that distinguishes you as a human being—reason, memory, abstract thought, creativeness, and so much more. It's your soul that loves, remembers, and aspires."
He glanced at Oliver, who looked puzzled. "Why do you look confused, Grandson?"
"I was just wondering, Grandfather, what happens to our soul when we're not here anymore?" Oliver asked.
Shunkmanu looked upward as if consulting the ancient trees for wisdom. "A very profound question, Grandson. The soul remains unharmed even if the body is destroyed. It is part of and transcends to spiritual worlds where, as we can in this world, recognize and seek union with other souls on the same spiritual journey. The love you have here will not be forgotten there."
Ella thoughtfully asked, "Does our soul have a gender? Or a race? Our class?"
Smiling gently, Shunkmanu replied, "No, my granddaughter. The soul is beyond such earthly distinctions. It reflects the oneness of our Creator, making any form of prejudice intolerable and unacceptable."
"As you grow older," he continued, "you will face spiritual tests and challenges. But remember, these only strengthen your soul's individuality and identity. It's like polishing a mirror to reflect the sun more clearly."
The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape. Shunkmanu's eyes met those of his grandchildren, sparkling with the reflected hues of the setting sun.
"Remember," he whispered, as if imparting a sacred secret, "your soul is your true essence, free, sanctified, and eternal. Cherish it, polish it, and let its light shine through you into this world and uplift all that you feel and touch!"
As the children hugged him tightly, each felt a surge of warmth and light emanating from deep within—a radiant affirmation of the boundless mystery and power of the soul.
Shunkmanu He Me Yedo! Chanupa Sapa He Me Yedo!
