Pure Heart of the Indian Plains

GirlsHorseClub.com Blog Archive on November 7, 2009, 8:00


by Violet Inkpen, age 13

The creek gurgled and flowed over the rocks. Three little children played in it, laughing and grinning from ear to ear. Their mothers washed clothes at the bank, humming songs of old. Also on the bank sat a girl, her dark hair hanging in her face, her pinto mare behind her grazing.

Hugging her knees to her chest the little girl felt a sob rise in her throat when the mothers called to their children to not wander too far. Growing up in an Indian tribe with no parents was hard. Everywhere you looked there was a mother with her little child in tow. Or a father


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