by Kimberli Skelton-Maloy

Created on: December 31, 2010

MY SISTER                                                                                                      

I have a Sister with hair and eyes of black

We have walked parallel paths, but it seems hers has been a harder road.

While I played in magical summer back yards, she was foraging for food to keep from starving

While I was safe in my home, she was in a place unimaginable to me

So much pain, abuse and hurt

While I went to school with others who shared my culture and experiences,

She was taken from her family to a place where she was stripped of all her culture

Of her beliefs, her family, her language.

While my mother lovingly brushed and braided my long brown hair, my Sister had her beautiful black hair roughly cut off at the hands of those who abused and shamed her – in the name of their God.

While I danced with freckled skin after a hot bath, her tender red skin was scrubbed by strangers until it bled.

Still, we are both women - women with joys and pains, children and grandchildren, dreams and desires.

Whatever I have, she is welcome to and she shares what she has with me.

We are bound in Spirit, my Sister and I.

We hold each other, we cry and we laugh together.

We share our sorrows and they are less, we share our joys and they are increased.

We are part of each other in a way almost closer than blood.

When I look into the mirror, I see her there. When I pray, she is by my side.

I cherish my Sister and give praise to the Creator for directing our paths in such a way

That we could become

Sisters.

*This poem is dedicated to my dear friend and Sister on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota, US. We are forever bound in Spirit and in love - we are family in the truest sense of the word. I love you, Sis.

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