Margaret Rose is an Indian woman. She was born to a mother who did not stay with her so she learned to speak her language and many of the stories of how the people lived from her grandmother, who raised her. Her features are fair, light brown hair, high cheekbones and a quiet manner in how she went about doing things. I met her some years ago when I needed to talk to an elder who didn't speak English too well and people told me she knew the old old way of talking so I sought her out and took her with me and she knew a lot about such things. I learned she took care of her grandmother until she passed away in her old age. Margaret Rose has given what she knew to her son, who wanders around still making his own way, but when he speaks it is on the old way of talking.

She is a natural beauty without makeup or fanfare, her hair is long and tied back and she married a tall young Indian man she met long ago. When they were tied to one another things went well, but in time he started to drink and carry on. She heard about such things, taking on work in order to keep food on the table and raised her sons, while her man went from place to place and found comfort on the rez in the lip of a bottle here and there. Some said you need to get rid of him, and in looking at her, I could see she would have many calling "to be him who wasn't there", if she wanted but that was not her way. She did not have to say it, but her virtue shined through and she cared for this man of hers even though he had treated her poorly and at times hit her around. She stayed with him, while everyone said, you would do better off without that one.

In all the years they were together she cared for him and the children, raising the boys in the proper way they should walk, keeping her eye on the door to see if he would come home. Sometimes he did and found work here and there, but the streets and sound of a good time called to him and he was gone again. Her house was immaculate, clean and there was always a place to sit for a good meal and so she was this way. Many came to her because she was able to read very well and speak for them in the things they were not sure of and so with time, she was well respected, the Indians all knew the name of Margaret Rose.

There is a lot to say about such a woman, she has quiet dignity and when she took time to talk to you, she listened with her soul and wore her heart like a soft piece of cotton, one you could hold, touch and feel it's warmth and know that it would always be there for anyone to use. She had a good heart and was married to just one man and was not for fooling around in anyway, that was not in her language.

From time to time I would see them together at the store, trading post or in town, she would stand next to him and though he was shaky at times and had red eyes she found no shame in him. She smiled and spoke the kind of words you like to hear, because she talked from the heart. As time went on he settled down and found good work and began to put away his foolish ways. He still sought out a strong drink, and the binges and long nights when he was gone would happen every once in a while, but she hung on to him. She stood by him and told him by her actions and her whole being "I believe in you and you are the one I chose and so stay with me all the days of my life and forever until I cannot remember anymore."

In some ways we all seek such a person, one who will stand there in spite of ourselves and knowing all the worst about us still cares and you can't figure out why. It seems there not so many people like this anymore. He became a worker of wood and could make anything with it, and people called on him to fix their places and he went and fixed it good. He spent more time at home, but could not shake the snake juice and bottled embalming fluid, Roma it was called.

As time went by her hair began to show streaks of gray, and though she never wore makeup she was still a natural beauty, her hair long and tied at the back. She raised her sons and they were now on their own. Still she took care of her man, and helped him in the ways a family comes together to workout life's problems and those things that come to you day to day. Never did she openly say she loved him, or look like a moon eyed girl but in the way of speaking of them, and how his clothes were always clean and his manner showed he was fed well, but more so because people just come to know that her caring was true and genuine. I never saw her say it but it was obvious she loved him, the kind of love that goes on forever after all else goes away. I often wondered about him and whether he know he had such a woman who would not give up on him.

In the old ways of doing things the woman used to stand just a little ways behind the man to let him lead as it was his place to do so. When they were together it was always so, she stood just a little behind him and at times took his arm at the elbow or just near his side a step or two behind him. Margaret Rose was a good mother, a good woman and her kindness and quiet strength began to win out. Her man quit drinking and stayed home, fixing up the place so that it shined like a jewel in the sun. They were always a quiet couple not seeking any acclaim or notice.

I saw them yesterday, they were in the grocery store buying groceries. She was there just to the side of him a step back or two within reach of him. She smiled and I said it is good to see you both. He looked at me and we talked for a little bit. I had not seen them for a while. He told me she never gave up on me and so I am taking care of her now. She deserved better than me and I wasted a lot of time getting here. I listened quietly, you just kind of stand there when people talk to you in such a way, I think it is a matter of respect or just that is how it is always done with our people. Margaret Rose, stood there quietly just next to him. Their hair has gone gray and they look good together after all these years. We spoke about children and those little things that don't really mean anything but I guess that say you are okay, and we are friends and it is good to know it, I suppose we have to hear it everyone once in a while. Margaret Rose was quiet she didn't say anything but she said a lot just standing there next to him. His eyes were clear and he spoke about taking care of everything.

Margaret Rose had finally won her man. After all these years he had finally come home to stay with her. They walked off down the aisle and were headed away, she was just as step or two behind him. There were many other Indian folks there who all said a good word, and they gathered around them to say something to them. I thought it is good to see them this way, they are together.

On getting home I spoke to my wife about it and she said sit down. She looked at me and said quietly. Margaret Rose is not what she used to be. She does not remember. She has the sickness that makes you forget everything. Oh, what a shame, maybe she knew, I don't know but the thing I know is that her man is taking care of her now, what she wanted her whole life. It is sad, but it goes that way sometimes, we have to hang on to our dreams. She lived her life so that he would know, "I believe in you and you are the one I chose and so stay with me all the days of my life and forever until I cannot remember anything more."

Rustywire, it is a true story….