Greetings Every One!
The work we are doing could not continue without you. We are very grateful for your support and help. Every single prayer and donation is appreciated more than you can know. Thank you so very much for your support.
Page 1: Note from Rutury
Page 3: Note from Nahwi
Page 3: Upcoming Events
Page 4: Misc notes
A note from Rutury:
Que Tuma Aku. Greetings dear friends!!
I dedicate this writing to honor my mother Shraulima who passed away February 28, 1987. I want to share with all of you who she was to me.
Before Shraulima became my mother I knew her essence in ways that I cannot explain in words, and when she became pregnant her sweet humming melodies brought soothing comfort that put me at ease while she sheltered me for 9 months. I was born in November in the early morning, and taking my first breath of air on my own was an incredible feeling. As I opened my eyes tenderly for the first time I saw my gorgeous mother with a happy smile and joyful tears welcoming me into her world. She held me close to her chest and I could sense her heart was in harmony with mine as I began to see a rainbow of colors around her body. We were both in a profound state of innocent love and that kind of love continues to be deeply embedded in my life.
My mother was not educated in the modern world yet she possessed a lot of wisdom and knowledge. Her passion was cultivating herbs and all kinds of edible fruit trees. Today I continue to reminisce about moments like when she would carry me on her back while she worked in the corn fields from sunrise to sundown, stopping only when it was raining or when it was time to feed me.
In the early seventies we lived on a Mexican town called Puente de Camotlan, where I went to school. Mother and I would walk to church where I was attending catechism and she would wait for me and often help the church clean up in the kitchen. My mother did not speak Spanish very well so she relied on her intuition and people’s body language to understand what they were wanting to communicate to her. One evening two nuns angrily accused my mother of stealing plates and cups and they said they would never trust us again, although the pastor of the church knew my mother was not the culprit. Deep in my heart I knew my mother was no thief, but hearing such accusations made me feel ashamed and I withdrew from the church. I started to embrace bad behavior that affected my schoolwork until my mother intervened by saying to me “Son, this is an important lesson for you, the plates and cups that are missing from the church are not in our house, so why are you ashamed?” Those simple words took me away from feeling the shame that did not belong to us, and that lesson has stuck in my heart forever.
My mother was humble and wise, strong willed and loveable, deeply connected spiritually but not arrogant about her gifts. I guess you had to have those ingredients to be the wife of my father who was a traditional Mara-akame (shaman). I will never regret the years we lived together and I do wish she would have lived longer than 44 years. My sweet darling mother, I carry you in all my prayers and continue to feel your rainbow colors in me. You stood tall against all odds, you fought battles not to win them but to make a change, for your valor you are my hero, forever.
Looking forward to our next ceremony.
Love and blessings,
One more picture of the Participants of the New Year Workshop