Grandfather: I have told آپ many times, Boy. آپ know the story سے طرف کی heart.
Boy: But it sounds better when آپ tell it, Grandfather.
Grandfather: Then listen carefully. This may be the last telling.
Boy: No, no, Grandfather. There will never be a last time. Promise me that. Promise me.
Grandfather: I promise آپ nothing, Boy. I love you. That is better than a promise.
Boy: And I love you, Grandfather, but tell me the story again. Please.
Grandfather: Once there was a boy child…
Boy: No, Grandfather. Start at the beginning. Start at the beginning. Start where the storm was crying my name.
Grandfather: آپ know the story, Boy. Tell it.
Boy: No, Grandfather, no. Start “It was a dark night…”
Grandfather: It was a dark night, a strange night. Your mother and father and I were محفوظ in the hogan…
Boy: …and the بھیڑوں, بھیڑ were محفوظ in the pen…
Grandfather: …when a wild storm came out of the mountains…
Boy: …crying, “Boy-eeeeeeeee! Boy-eeeeeeeee!”
Grandfather: …and your mother said, “I hear it in the wounded wind. A boy child will be born tonight.”
Boy: Then what happened, Grandfather?
Grandfather: I rode up the canyon fast, to bring the grandmother. It is not a good sign for a child to be born without a grandmother’s blessing.
Boy: Was the wind still calling for me, Grandfather?
Grandfather: Yes, Boy, it was whipping up sand as sharp as claws, and crying like a bobcat, “Boy-eeeeeeeee! Boy-eeeeeeeee!”
Boy: Were آپ afraid Grandfather?
Grandfather: I was much afraid/
Boy: How much afraid?
Grandfather: Heart-pounding afraid, Boy.
Boy: Then what happened, Grandfather? Just as I was born… tell me that part.
Grandfather: It was strange…strange. Just as آپ came forth and made your first cry, the wind stopped howling and the storm was over…
Boy: …and the night became as quiet as soft falling snow…
Grandfather: …The grandmother took آپ up in her arms, and said, “He will walk in beauty…to the east…”
Boy: “…to the west, to the north, to the south, he will walk in beauty…”
Grandfather: “…forever.”
Boy: And I was born strong, wasn’t I, Grandfather?
Grandfather: No, آپ were not strong. آپ were sick and frail. We thought آپ would die.
Boy: But I didn’t die, did I? Tell me about that Grandfather.
Grandfather: All night آپ lay silent with your eyes closed, your breath too shallow, too weak for crying…
Boy: …and آپ carried me out to see the morning, Grandfather, but I did not open my eyes. Tell me that part.
Grandfather: Two great blue horses came galloping by…
Boy: …and they stopped, Grandfather! They stopped and looked at me…
Grandfather: …and آپ raised your arms to the great blue horses, and I said, “See how the horses speak to him. They are his brothers from…”
Boy: “…from beyond the dark mountains. This boy child will not die.” That is what آپ said, isn’t it, Grandfather?
Grandfather: Yes, Boy, that is what I said, “This boy child will not die. The great blue horses have دیا him the strength to live.”
Boy: And that is when آپ names me, isn’t it, Grandfather?
Grandfather: After آپ smiled your first smile, we had the naming ceremony. All of the grandmothers and grandfathers were there.
Boy: And آپ named me Boy-Strength-of-Blue-Horses.
Grandfather: It is a strong name.
Boy: Did I need a strong name, Grandfather?
Grandfather: All children need a strong name to help them grow strong.
Boy: And I grew strong, didn’t I?
Grandfather: Yes, Boy-Strength-of-Blue-Horses, and each دن آپ are growing stronger. آپ are learning to پار, صلیب the dark mountains.
Boy: I already have crossed some of the dark mountains.
Grandfather: There will be more, Boy. Dark mountains are always around us. They have no beginnings and…
Boy: …they have no endings. But we know they are there, Grandfather, when we suddenly feel afraid.
Grandfather: Yes, Boy…afraid to do what we have to do.
Boy: Will I always have to live in the dark?
Grandfather: Yes, Boy. آپ were born with a dark curtain in front of your eyes.
Boy: But there are many ways to see, Grandfather.
Grandfather: Yes, Boy, آپ are learning to see through the darkness because آپ have the strength of blue horses.
Boy: I see the horses with my hands, Grandfather, but I cannot see the blue. What is blue?
Grandfather: آپ know morning, Boy.
Boy: Yes, I can feel morning. Morning throws off the blanket of night.
Grandfather: And آپ know sunrise.
Boy: Yes, I hear sunrise, in the song of the birds.
Grandfather: And آپ know sky, Boy.
Boy: Yes, sky touches my face…soft, like lambs’ wool…and I breathe its softness.
Grandfather: Blue is all of these. Blue is the feeling of a spring دن beginning. Try…try to see it, Boy.
Boy: Blue?…blue? Blue is the morning…the sunrise…the sky…the song of the birds…O, I see it! Blue! Blue! Blue is happiness, Grandfather! I feel it…in my heart!
Grandfather: There was a sweep of blue in the rainbow, Boy, that morning your horse was born.
Boy: O, tell me that part, Grandfather! I could not see the قوس قزح but I can still feel its happiness.
Grandfather: I awakened you, Boy, during the night, remember, just before the foal ہے, بچھیری was born
Boy: And آپ کہا to me, “Come, Boy, Circles is ready to foal. The گدھے کو, گدھی will be yours.”
Grandfather: It was a long night of cold rain…
Boy: …and we put a blanket over Circles, Grandfather, to keep her warm.
Grandfather: Yes, Boy. As the sun came through the clouds, the foal ہے, بچھیری was born…
Boy: …and a قوس قزح danced across the sky.
Grandfather: It was a good sign, Boy.
Boy: And I named the little wet foal…Rainbow!
Grandfather: آپ have trained her well, Boy.
Boy: قوس قزح is smart, Grandfather.
Grandfather: Like you. She is good at remembering.
Boy: قوس قزح is my eyes, Grandfather. She takes me to the sheep, wherever they are, and when I am ready, she finds the way home.
Grandfather: No one thought آپ could teach her to race, Boy…
Boy: …but I did, Grandfather! Every day, دن after day, we followed آپ along the trail…And آپ let me hold the reins.
Grandfather: آپ traced the trails in your mind, Boy, both آپ and Rainbow.
Boy: Yes, Grandfather, we learned the trails سے طرف کی heart…up South Mountain to Granite Rock…down the steep shortcut to Meadow-of-Blue-Flowers…then straight across the Red فلیٹوں, فلیٹ to Lightning-Split-Tree…then down the Switchbacks to the canyon trail…and on around to the finish line. I learned from قوس قزح when to turn سے طرف کی the pull of her neck and سے طرف کی counting her gallops. Now tell me again about the race, Grandfather.
Grandfather: It was a tribal day, Boy. آپ and the other boys were at the starting line…but آپ pulled back.
Boy: I was afraid, Grandfather, until آپ called to me. Tell me again what آپ said.
Grandfather: I said, “Don’t be afraid, Boy! Trust your darkness! Go like the wind!”
Boy: And I leaned آگے on Rainbow’s neck. I grabbed her mane tight, and I said, “Go, Rainbow, go!” I could feel the pushing and crowding and galloping thunder all around me. قوس قزح and I went twisting, turning, galloping, galloping, galloping, counting the gallops…remembering the way…And what did the people say, Grandfather?
Grandfather: They said, “Who is that boy riding bareback…racing the race with all of his heart?”
Boy: And آپ said, “That is Boy-Strength-of-Blue-Horses…He and his horse are together like one.”
Grandfather: Yes, Boy, that is what I said.
Boy: But I didn’t win, Grandfather.
Grandfather: No, but آپ rode like the wind.
Boy: The wind is my friend, Grandfather. It throws back my hair and laughs in my face.
Grandfather: آپ see the wind better than I, Boy.
Boy: I finished the race, hot and dusty, sweat dripping from my face…
Grandfather: And آپ were smiling, Boy!
Boy: I wasn’t afraid, Grandfather. I could see through the dark every turn of the race. قوس قزح and I knew the way.
Grandfather: آپ were crossing dark mountains, Boy!
Boy: Tell me again what آپ told me then. I like to hear it over and over.
Grandfather: I said, “Boy-Strength-of-Blue-Horses, آپ have raced darkness and won! آپ now can see with your heart, feel a part of all that surrounds you. Your courage lights the way.”
Boy: And what did the grandmothers say?
Grandfather: آپ tell me, Boy. I know آپ remember.
Boy: Yes, I remember, Grandfather. They said, “This boy walks in beauty. His dreams are مزید beautiful than rainbows and sunsets.”
Grandfather: Now, Boy…now that the story has been told again, I will tie another knot in the counting rope. When the rope is filled with knots, آپ will know the story سے طرف کی دل and آپ can tell it yourself.
Boy: So that I will grow stronger, Grandfather?
Grandfather: Yes…stronger…strong enough to پار, صلیب the dark mountains.
Boy: I always feel strong when آپ are with me, Grandfather.
Grandfather: I will not always be with you, Boy.
Boy: No, Grandfather, don’t ever leave me. What will I do without you?
Grandfather: آپ will never be alone, Boy. My love, like the strength of blue horses, will always surround you.
