Taki put the palm of her hand on the trunk of the tree.
"When I was an agnaiyaaq, a little girl, my aaka held this hand and walked with me outside of Point Hope," she said, "and talked with me about the plants around us, the ones animals can and cannot eat, the ones people can and cannot eat, the ones animals and people can use for medicine.
This, Little Salt, is called the Balm of Gilead tree."
Salito looked closely at the buds on the lower branches of the tree and breathed deeply the sweet smell of the resin.
He whistled for the wonder of it all.
"Balm of Gilead resin can soothe a cough or keep a small wound or cut or scrape from getting infected.
Maybe it could help a mute boy from El Salvador talk, huh?
Just kidding.
You can rub the resin on your skin or gargle it with water and it helps relieve burns and sore throats.
It grows here even out of the hard, frozen land.
Look at the heart shaped leaves. They remind us that the heart is the place where we learn to share, cooperate, take responsibility, avoid conflict and respect others, all of the qualities the old ones try to pass along to us.
Aaka told me, she said, 'Taki, these are the values of The People. They keep hearts beating and life living in these frozen, Arctic lands.'"
Taki closed her eyes.
She put her ear on the smooth, light brown bark of the tree.
"I hear the tree," she whispered. "It is saying, 'Take only what you need from nature. Use what you have to help others. Always speak your own language.'"
Salito put the fingers of his hand on the petals of the flower.
"When I was a niño pequeño, a little boy, my abuelo held this hand and walked me outside of the migrant camps where we stayed," he whistled, "and taught me about the plants around us there, the ones you can eat, the ones you can use for medicine.
This is the izote flower.
It's the national flower of El Salvador."
Taki looked at the milky, bell shaped flowers clustered above the leaves of the plant.
She breathed in the sweet smell of the flowers.
"You can eat the flowers and they help relieve arthritis and headaches.
You can break the stems, plant them in the ground, and they will take root and grow new leaves and flowers."
Look at the sword shaped leaves," whistled Hilcias softly. "They remind us of our will to live. They remind us that the pen is a sword and that we can write stories to help us understand each other and be kind to each other."
He closed his eyes.
He put his ear to the evergreen leaves.
Their sharp spines pricked his skin.
"I hear the flowers," he whistled. "They're saying, 'Give ingenuity, beauty and wonder to world with the simplicity, plainness and ordinariness of your own language...of
you.'"
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