A Story is a story is a story by Elizabeth Wunsch

Early Thursday morning. On my way to the White Tank County Cemetery. A place practically devoid of headstones, mostly graced with little copper markers. Markers making those who were invisible a little less invisible. Markers that guarantee the holders of each of these individual’s stories will be able to find them. And reminisce. And tell the tales.

These are the graves of the poor, the homeless, the unclaimed. There were eight souls that were being interred that day. As I got nearer I wondered who they were, what were their lessons, their hardships, their joys. What were the stories of their lives. And today they would be surrounded by volunteers who would serve as Officiates of their funeral and mourners, offering prayers and blessings. They would be placed in their final resting place by the female prisoners, all in chains, carefully, gracefully and tearfully lowering them into the ground.

The first soul interred was a day old infant who had been abandoned at death. Micah. She never had a chance to accumulate her stories except those she absorbed in utero from her mother. Michael, Joseph, Alexander and Elizabeth. I heard her name and wondered who what when where why, why this. What wisdom could I have learned from tales of her journey.

And then I thought of a homeless woman I had befriended in my work at Andre House. I call her Chicago. She is a fighter. Waiting for promised housing. Smart, hard worker, married a husband whose habits cost them their home. She is a little younger than I but had stories to tell. When I last saw her she was in tears. The powers that be had torn down her camp and thrown away her belongings. Yet she will fight to move forward. She has a story of truth to tell for those who will listen.

Just as in the days of old, myths and folktales, these invisible people are all on a hero’s journey that would match any of their predecessors. Are we brave enough to listen to their stories, fight to give them a chance to tell them or will we turn a deaf ear. A story is a story is a story no matter whose it is.

Comments

[Kathy E]

Elizabeth, what a rich and heart felt blog. It brought to mind the hand made grave markers and folks who bury their own. Then I read it was women prisoners - staying connected to this world and the next. You are so right, we should listen to all the stories - especially the really hard ones.

[Sally Borg]

Very thought provoking.

[Leah]

Thanks for sharing Elizabeth. Letting others have a voice is truly one of the most beautiful callings of a storyteller. Blessings on your journey.

[Crystal Gale]

Thank-you Elizabeth. Sometimes it is hard to hear other people's stories because they are at times painful to listen to. I think it is these stories that help keep my heart soft and connected to reality.

[Marilee Lasch]

I don't think I could have stood there and watched that! Your work at Andre House is awesome and I admire you for doing that. I am such a caretaker that I would lose myself trying to take care of others. The important thing to remember is that one can teach, love, and help but maintain ones own identity . Kudos to you for your caring soul.