I remember that day as though it was yesterday.
I mean who could forget such a celebration and such a tragedy. It was the night of the soul cleansing. A time where my people would gather under the full moon and expose ourselves to Mother Nature.
A time when we would dance until our feet could no longer carry us.
A time of song and happiness.
A time to celebrate.
A time to reconnect with nature.
A to dance under the light of the moon.
I was five winters old on that night, and I remember the other children and I dancing with such passion that the elders had to stop and watch. They had to gaze upon the next generation of healers as our bodies swayed and swooned under the beauty of the moon. I remember the warm winds wrapping itself around my young body, flowing through my veins, enhancing the fire of desire that already burned within me. I lost myself within the beats of the drums and the melodies of the flutes.
I remember dancing so hard and with such passion that the sky began to cry. Mother Nature's tears warmed my heart as she clapped her hands in approval causing rolls of thunder to shake the very heavens.
That night my people and I danced to cleanse our souls, and to celebrate the earth. We danced because we were Daras; we were healers, children of nature, children of the moon. We danced because that is who we are. We danced because Mother Nature herself ran through our veins and beat within our very hearts. We danced because we were the earth, but in the eyes of the people who didn't understand us,
we danced because we were demons.
On that night, that wondrous night of celebration, my people were murdered. The villagers came with torches and spears. They came with farming equipment and knives. They came with swords of all shapes and sizes. They screamed out vile words as they attacked. They slaughtered the elders, men, women, and even the children and infants. My people did not believe in fighting. We did not support acts of violence, nor did we tolerate murder. Because of our non-violent nature, we ran.
My mother and I ran. We ran as fast as we could, asking the winds to fill our lungs so that we may not tire, and the earth to guide our feet so that we may not trip. We could hear the cries of those who had fallen behind. We could hear the screams of the villager's spears as they soared through the air. I can still hear the spear pierce my mother's flesh. I can still hear her cry of pain as she began to stagger and fall behind. I can still hear her final words as her blessed soul departed her body. And in that final breath, my mother gave me my name. For you see, dara children are not named the minute they enter the world. A dara's name is something that is treasured. A dara's name gives them their uniqueness. For no two dara's have the same name, and that is why parents put much consideration into choosing their child's name.
As my mother fell to her knees, she told me 'To love nature as I always have. To forgive those who have done me wrong, and to dance the Dara dance under Mother Nature's moon. And always remember, my dear Usagi that I will be with you always.'