Voices (for Speaking Down Barriers)

Taki put the palm of her hand on the trunk of the tree.

"When I was an agnaiyaaq, a little girl, my aaka, my grandma, held this hand and walked me outside 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 scrape from getting infected.

Maybe it could help a mute boy from El Salvador talk, huh?”

She smiled.

“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 ground.

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 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. Use what you have to help others. Always speak your language.'"

Salito brought out a small notebook from his back pocket.

He opened it to a pressed flower inside of it.

"When I was a niño pequeño, a little boy, my abuelo, my grandpa, held this hand and walked me outside of San Salvador," 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. 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 Salito 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 beauty, genius, wonder and courage to the world with the plainness, simplicity, ordinariness and humanness...of you.'"