Ho'omana Health Ministries

Once in another world far away from here and now, there lived a wild, little nomad. She was small but strong and sturdy. Her skin was a golden sun-kissed brown. She had dark curls, light blue eyes and a heart full of adventure. She lived on a small green island in the middle of a deep blue ocean. The island was a magical land where there was no winter.  Here the little nomad spent her days climbing cliffs, ambling along beaches and running through sugar cane fields. Her playmates were geckos and iguanas. When she was hungry, she picked bananas that hung upside down on the trees or broke off a piece of sugar cane and sucked out its sweetness. When she became tired, she stretched out on the warm sand while the tide creeped up the shore line and tickled her feet.

Sometimes there were rainstorms but this did not trouble the little nomad. She viewed each new experience as a gift. The storms brought pleasures that could never be found in the sunshine. The clouds filled the days with cool dark mystery. The rain washed everything new and clean including the nomad who would run out into the wetness with her arms spread out as if trying to embrace the sky. She would lift her face and let the rain wash over her. Even the stormy seas brought no fear to this pure heart. As the waves pounded against the shore, she felt only awesome exhilaration. No matter what the day brought forth, it always began with joy and ended with peace because the little nomad's heart created her paradise.

There were other inhabitants on the magic island. Some were small like the nomad, some were giants. Some lived in paradise and others did not. Our little nomad paid scant attention to any of the others...even the giants. She walked amongst them without fear. Two of these giants claimed to be her parents. She let them believe whatever they wish but she knew better. She was not a child of their world.

Her mother was Wind and her father was Sun. Each morning her Father would plant a warm kiss on her head and her Mother would caress her. Then they would whisper softly in her ear.  They would say,  "Come, little one, discover the wonderful gifts we have prepared for you this day." They would smile as they watched little nomad spring up from her rest and seize the day that was offered to her. The nomad knew how to wring every bit of goodness out of her days. Oh, but that was just the beginning... Yes, that was just the beginning. After the days were done, then came the nights. The nights were even better than the days. You see, nomads never sleep. Giants sleep because they do not live in paradise. Giants are heavy and tire easily. Their world is heavy and burdensome and they carry those burdens all day. So, at night they must sleep. While the giants slept, the little nomad went on her greatest adventures.

There was something about the night air. It was apparently lighter than the air of the day. During the night, the little nomad was able to lift her feet off of the ground and not have them come back down. Then as easily as taking a step, her body would float up into the air and go wherever she wanted. She could fly. She would soar up high into the sky until her little island was just a tiny green circle in a field of indigo. Then she would gently drift down and take a tour from above of her beloved beaches, cliffs, palm trees and sugar cane. Sometimes she would visit other lands but only the paradise lands of other nomads...never the land of the giants.

Oh, and how she loved flying! The little nomad loved lots of things. She loved everything, actually, but she loved flying most of all. Flying was the only time that she felt like her true self. She was free. So each day as evening approached, she would anxiously await the moment that she became light...lighter than air...and soar up into the heavens.

Then came the day that she made the terrible mistake.

It started out like any other day. The Sun kissed her and the Wind hugged her shoulders and set her out on her path of discovery. But there was a giant in the way. That is when she made the fatal error. Now, there had been other days that giants came into her path but she really never acknowledged their presence. She just politely ignored them and went on her way. This day was different. This day she stopped and spoke to the giant. That is when all the trouble began.

It is understandable really. She was distracted. She was not thinking about what she was doing. You see, the night before the little nomad had gone on her best flight ever. She had soared higher in the sky than ever before. In fact, she flew so high that she met some of the star children. She was awed by their beauty. Then she stopped in mid-flight. She recognized something in them. There was a resemblance to herself. Something there was like looking in mirror. It was not superficial. It was something genuine and deep. Ah, Yes, they shared the same hearts. When she saw their hearts, she recognized they were her family.

It was then, at that  moment that she understood what it really meant to be a nomad. A nomad is someone who is just passing through, traveling in time and gathering experiences. The truth came to her in a flash...she was not a permanent resident of the island. Though she loved her island, she did not belong there and someday ...someday...she would break loose and fly forever.  Oh, what a wonderful feeling it is when you discover you are a star child...to finally know what it means to be a daughter of  Sun and Wind and at one with the heavens.

She did not want that night to end. However, this little nomad still had many journeys left to complete. So she had to say good-bye to her kindred spirits. Dawn came and she drifted back down to her temporary abode on the island. But her mind was still in the heavens. That morning she was basking in the warm glow of her new knowledge. The joy was filling her heart to overflowing and she wanted to share it with someone. Then she noticed the giant in the path. He was the one who thought he was her father. She thought to herself, "Maybe I should share my news with him. Since he believes he is my father, he will be so happy for me."

So she said to him, "Guess what! I flew to the heavens last night and found where I belong!" She smiled an innocent smile and waited for him to share her excitement. That was her fatal mistake. She did not know that giants will never understand what it is like to be a nomad. This giant was no exception. He turned towards her with a patronizing look on his face. He smiled a cynical evil smile and said, " Silly little girl, you can't fly. No one can fly. You were dreaming. "

For the first time in the little nomad's life, she felt pain. The sharp words cut into her spirit like a knife. She wondered why his words had never hurt before. Then she remembered that she had never listened to them before. She pulled the words out quickly but the wound was still there and the wound left a scar of doubt.

The doubt nagged at her. She thought to herself that the giant was the silly one. Of course she could fly. She KNEW she could fly. She flew every night. But the doubt kept aching in her.  What was a dream?  What was a dream? That was a word she had never heard before.

It was the doubt that caused the little nomad to make the second mistake. She asked the giant, "What is a dream?'. He smiled his evil cynical smile again.  He looked at her with his cold eyes. He was happy. He saw the wound he had created. Now he would go for the kill. He wanted to take the burden off of his back and throw it on her small shoulders. He said, " Are you so stupid that you don't know what dreams are?? Well, dreams are pretend stories in your head. They are not real. Dreams happen when you sleep."

The little nomad breathed a sigh of relief. Now, she knew that she did not dream because she did not sleep. She was a nomad. Her eyes were always awake. She thanked the giant politely and went on her way. She would not be so relieved if she had know what had happened. The giant had thrown his burden at her and it had stuck. He did not get the relief he was hoping for, though. In fact, the giant felt even heavier when he left the nomad. Evil does not lessen itself by being given to others. It only multiplies.

That night the little nomad waited to become light and float up into the atmosphere. It took longer than usual and was not as free and easy. For the first time, she had to work at flying. She never flew as high again after her talk with the giant. This troubled her. The trouble created more worry and weighed her down even more. The more she was weighed down, the harder it was to fly. The difficulty flying at night would cloud her days. Her journeys had less joy.

Each day there seemed to be a few more clouds between her and Father Sun and a little more chill in Mother Wind. Their voices were not quite as clear as they had been in the past. At the same time, the giant's voices grew louder and more distinct. No matter how hard she tried, it became more and more difficult to ignore the giants. She would catch herself hearing a few phrases of their conversations before she could tune them out. Once she heard a giant say, "Pinch me so I can tell if I am dreaming." and the words pricked at the scar of doubt in her heart.

She would tell herself, " I know I am not dreaming, I know I am not dreaming". But what if there was a way to prove she was not dreaming? Wouldn't that be wonderful to have proof? Then the doubt would be gone forever. So she made the third and final mistake. She tried to use the logic of giants to prove the reality of the star children. That night she went on what would be her last flight for a long, long time. It was very difficult to raise her body off the ground. When she did manage to get up into the air, it was only for a moment or two and then she was back down....more like super long jumps than flying. During one of these jumps, she thought , "I will pinch myself now. If I feel the pinch, I will know this is real." She pinched herself. Her fingers went through her arm like going through air and she came tumbling down to the ground. She got up and tried to fly again. Nothing happened.

Something wet and warm formed in her eyes. Her vision blurred. The wetness ran down into her mouth. It was salty and sad. The little nomad tasted her first of many tears. The tears turned to snow and the nomad experienced her first winter. The island became white with snow. There was no more sugar cane. The palms turned into pines and white birches. The ocean became cold and uninviting. Even in summer it turned her lips blue. Her beloved beach turned rocky and craggy.

It would be many many years before the nomad would fly again. First she would have to wander in the land of the giants and carry their burdens. She never became one of them and that made the burden even heavier to bear.  Don't worry. The story does have a happy ending. She will find her paradise again....right where she left it...inside her own little wounded heart.  Stay tuned.