Based on historical characters and events, Love to Water My Soul recounts the dramatic story of an abandoned white child rescued by Indians. Among Oregon's Paiute people, Shell Flower seeks love and a place of belonging...only to be cast away from her home.
A remakable story of God's constancy and provision for all lovers of history, romance and faith...
Based on historical characters and events, Love to Water My Soul recounts the dramatic story of an abandoned white child rescued by Indians. Among Oregon's Paiute people, Shell Flower seeks love and a pace of belonging...only to be cast away from her home.
In the years that follow, she faces a new life in the world of the white man--a life filled with both attachment and loss--yet finds that God faithfully unites her with a love that fills all longing in this heartwarming sequel to Jane Kirkpatrick's award-winner, A Sweetness to the Soul .
From the Trade Paperback edition.
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|Title of eBook: Love to Water My Soul|
|Release Date: 11-11-2009|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: The Doubleday Religious Publishing Group|
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
|Parent title||Love to Water My Soul|
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|Note||ePub, short for electronic publication is one of our favorites and should be yours for a couple of reasons. ePub offers reflowable text giving you flexibility to manipulate how the content is presented. Moreover, lots of cool features are now being developed for the reader like advanced video and audio. ePub is now an industry standard, so all of the "non-propreitary" hardware manufacturers are now supporting it.|
Love to Water My Soul
Like a double-edged obsidian knife, my life was sliced two ways, and carried with it strength for the task and a keen edge to find my way.
I even carved and shaped my name, deciding Alice M did fit me. But it is Thocmetone that I cherish. It means “Shell Flower” and I received it my third year with the Wadaduka people. It was in 1870 or so. I once wore Asiam, the word the Modocs called me, thought they heard me call myself that name when they first found me wandering and dust-shrouded on the Oregon desert, separated from those most familiar. I added others through the years, but Thocmetone pleased me most for it was given as a gift and as a sign that I was loved.
It is such love that makes things grow, even yellow shell flowers that bob and weave in the desert spring. It is such love that guides and strengthens for a journey. And it is the memory of such love that waters my soul, fills me up enough to let me nourish others.
This is a memory told many times, though for years kept only to myself, tied into a chain of leather knots. When I found what quenched my thirst, I took the necklace off. But I remembered, and tell the story now so you will be encouraged and find through it the way to fill your longings, too.
The First Knot: Marking
The wagon moved away from me in a swirl of dust, the clank of hames and harness, creaking of wooden wheels, shouts through the mid-day Oregon heat. To this day, when I view the back of a woman’s bonnet I see the canvas opening of a wagon disappearing into Oregon Territory, leaving me behind.
Even now, years later, little memories flutter across my mind, often when I least expect