Mattie smiled and people felt loved.
She was the lore-keeper, the storyteller.
She kept the family together.
When the family gathered, she would call for a big
fire down by the lake.
The grownups gathered around the fire and talked
about the family and the way it was in the old days.

The children played around them,
And some listened to the talk-
Some remembered and told the stories as they grew.

They, too called for a big fire, just like Mattie
Mattie died and the family died with her.
Her children hide their Native blood.

They don’t call for a big fire at the lake anymore.
They don’t tell the old stories of the family, and long ago.
We, the great-grand children cry for the lost past,
....but no one answers. Everyone who knew is dead.

The few alive say "we’re white, shut up!"
The picture in Mattie’s house of the old native woman
disappeared. We ask where is she?....No one knows.
No one knows.

Just an old Indian wife of some uncle, they say.
But it had a special place on Mattie’s wall.
Some seem to remember it was her mother or grandmother.
But, "we’re white, shut up!" they say.

David says Mattie told me her stories,
that she showed me all the things in her old trunk.
I can’t remember, it’s all black in that part of my memory.
Why can’t I remember what Mattie said?

I had a vision once. I died and became a shadow.
For a long time I painted my face black and white,
called myself shadow, and walked quietly behind people.
We all loved Mattie, why did we leave her alone
to raise her children’s children?

Left her alone in an old house
with no electricity and no running water.
The children’s father’s drank and ran away,
But we all loved Mattie.

Why didn’t we listen and learn?
Why do I want to cry?
We all loved Mattie and went away.
But Mattie just smiled and loved and never judged.