its little wings until it broke free from the maiden’s shirt and flew up and off toward the Guardian of the East. The direction of the Eagle! The direction of all new beginnings!
I felt as innocent as a child making a first and new and wonderful discovery! The bird quickly and playfully flew around for a moment above the maiden’s head and hair. Then it settled and positioned itself back onto the back of her shirt and transformed itself back into the white child-like symbol of a bird. I can’t explain how profoundly this affected me. My eyes blinked and wept a flood of happy tears!
Carefully and closely, I watched this Indian Maiden softly retrace the same previous trek that Alan had guided me on, around the Sacred Circle. She spoke no words to me! There was strangely no need. It was clear to me that she knew she had my full concentration. It was also understood that I knew that she had been sent to guide me.
After steadily stepping and completing the circle, her body transformed into that of the little sparrow and resumed and repeated her walk around the Sacred Circle just as before. It was during this particular part of the sleep process that the words White Sparrow rang through my sleeping soul. It was clearly but unexplainably understood that this bird was telling me what I was to do. That I was to become “White Sparrow”! That “White Sparrow” was to become me!
No, I was not on drugs! No, I was not intoxicated! No, I was not brainwashed by Alan Greywolf! The gift of my name came from a much greater source, a divine source.
You see, Alan’s CD is only forty-five minutes long. However, I awakened four hours later! Alan’s CD became a bridge for me. The bridge between my past and my future, and that day, on my couch, I gave myself up and I crossed that bridge!
When I woke and realized the magnitude of what had happened, I anxiously replayed the CD. As it was not a tape, I was unable to rewind it, so I had to let it go through the previous sequence again, until Alan’s voice picked up like an unmissed beat and continued to guide me on toward the last Keeper in the Sacred Circle. The Spirit Keeper of the North! The Great White Buffalo!
This was the best of the best for me! I believe this not only because of the spiritual qualities of the Buffalo, but because when I came to the Buffalo, I came to visit it not as who I had been, but I came to visit there as the new me. I came there guided as “White Sparrow”!
It was in the direction of the North that I felt the Great Spirit had baptized my name! That this is the place that I became one with White Sparrow!
Before I left the Sacred Circle, the Indian Maiden reappeared and stopped at each Spirit Keeper to give thanks. Once she completed this cycle, the little sparrow repeated the pattern. It hopped and stopped before the Great Eagle, the Great Wolf, the Great Bear, and the Great Buffalo! From here, the sparrow, the Indian Maiden, and I myself stepped off of the sacred centre stone and exited the arm of the Sacred Circle. It was from here that I took the knowledge that I had emerged — reborn Red, as “White Sparrow.” The legal name I wear with greatest honour today!
From this amazing journey developed my website, and from the website grew the dream of telling the true story called “Feathers Within.” The story that hopefully you are reading for yourself now!
3. My Calling: One Lost Sparrow and One Great Canadian Chief
“Cape Croker, Cape Croker, Cape Croker!”
On Thursday, April 24th, 2004, these words came profoundly and mysteriously to me, and through me.
At 3:00 or 3:30 that afternoon, I was standing at the front desk of a private resort in Thornbury, Ontario. It was a quiet day, with only a few guests staying with us at the time. I was working my day shift just like any other day. It was near the end of my shift when I was over come and captured with these words. I heard them as a pledge! I heard them as a prayer! I heard them as an answer!
“Cape Croker, Cape Croker, Cape Croker!”
With these words came a great surge of energy and an even greater sense of urgency! My mind was racing with questions as to what was happening and why.
Now, I openly admit here, this was not the first time in my life that I had had strong sensations come over me. On a number of previous occasions, I have been known to receive messages either for myself or for or about other people. What I had never encountered, though, was the strength, intensity, and the speed by which these words were reaching me. I readily knew that something major was about to play out in my life. The only fear that accompanied this experience was the fear of not being able to follow it through, the fear of losing the trail of this sensation before I could make logical sense of it. There was no time to lose!
Working at a resort gave me access to many tour guides, maps, and magazines. I quickly bent down and opened a bottom drawer that contained a full array of them. I had certainly recognized the name Cape Croker, but I didn’t even know where it was. Where would I begin?
My hands started sliding and shuffling the magazines around one after another. They finally stopped, when I came to one called Manitoulin Island and on a second one called Bruce County. Something told me to try these two.
So I quickly grabbed them both up and began frantically flipping through their pages.
Like many of us, I have a certain percentage of routine in my life. For instance, every Saturday I dedicated to my mother. Therefore, I definitely knew that I had to contact her to tell her that our plans for the up coming weekend were about to be altered.
Now, there is not much point to looking like a fool if you don’t have any onlookers. So, naturally, I had a couple of co-workers witness this frenzy as it played out. It took everything in me to stay and finish my shift that day!
When my shift ended, I quickly said my good-byes, grabbed my purse, and headed to my car. In my hands I was clutching one of the magazines that had an article on Cape Croker. I was extremely pleased and relieved to discover that Cape Croker was located just a little over an hour from where I was.
My butt had hardly touched the driver’s seat of my car when this same energy sent me back into the resort on the fly. One of my co-workers asked, “What happened? Didn’t your car start?”
“No, my car’s okay,” I replied, “but something tells me I’m supposed to look in that other magazine again.”
Hastily, I headed back to the drawer of magazines and grabbed the one lying on top. I flicked through the pages until I reached the name “The Indian Carver.”
I prompted both my co-workers standing next to me to tell me if they had ever heard of the Indian Carver.
Both shook their heads and said no. Puzzled, one of them asked me, “Why do you need information on the Indian Carver?”
“I don’t know,” I snapped back. “I only know that I’m supposed to check it out!”
With that, I picked up the magazine and headed out to my car, which I had left running. Once in my car, I knew that I was about to drive directly to Meaford to my mother’s apartment. As anxious as I was, I didn’t speed. I needed the driving time to mull over exactly how I was going to explain what was happening to me. You see my mom is a huge skeptic when it comes to stuff like this. So I was trying my best to come up with the words that would be the most convincing: (a) so that we both didn’t think I was crazy and (b) to let her know that we might not be able to do our usual grocery shop on the upcoming Saturday.
Mother to daughter and wide-eyed, I quickly spilled my story
