--Sister Barbara Hance
Last Saturday morning, I gathered up a few clothes, a book and a half-finished crossword puzzle, tucking them into an overnight bag. I also made sure I had my map, although I hadn't studied it very much. I just knew that we were heading North. Oddly, that one vague fact was enough for me. What happened the rest of the weekend would unfold in its own time, its own way.
The good news for Nebraska travelers going North is that you cannot get there on the interstate. It was the blue highways, then--those winding, narrow, scenic roads--that took Allison and me to Niobrara, Nebraska, the tiny town where the Niobrara River spills its life into a wild stretch of the Missouri.
What unraveled in those 30 hours of "away" time was something deep, quiet, beautiful.
In Niobrara, we had found a place where cell service fell silent and restaurants struggled to stay open. After some minor adjustments on our part, neither of us fretted those details again. Like the two rivers that held us, we just went with the flow.
Our afternoon held many surprises, each of them unwrapped and revealed to us by our most patient host, Larry Wright Senior, Ponca Keeper of the Buffalo. This tall, quiet man spent the first half hour of our visit patiently answering Allison's questions about the role of buffalo in the life of the Ponca. His answers spanned the range--from the practical to the spiritual--and Larry proved unflappable, even after Allison's camera temporarily shut down, midway through one of his most moving stories.
Following the interview, the three of us hopped into his truck and headed to the pastures, where the Ponca's buffalo live. It is an awesome and important thing, to sit quietly among such immense beings and to be reminded of our humble place in the grander order of things. I'm a big fan of such bubble-popping mind shifts, so often delivered in an outdoor setting.
Later, Larry took us to his home, which could easily be mistaken for a museum, except that the artifacts, photos, feathers and skulls possessed too much personal significance for items that one finds in a public space. It would be an understatement to say that Allison and I were humbled by this time in his home.
This is how the entire trip went--two unknowing people led through a meandering string of wonders and experiences, all held loosely together by a place that is both rugged and revealing. During it all, I was glad to be there with Allison, caddying her film equipment, driving us to and through new places, sharing food and stories with daughter and strangers alike. Feeling the restorative effects of two rivers running through us.
It is no accident that the words "wonder" and "wander" share so many letters.
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