Smoke Signals - Miller, Roselyn Ogden
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The story is based on a memory from my childhood. As a seven year old I often stood on the fence surrounding our family home facing the street in Pine Ridge, South Dakota. It ran north past our home and provided entertainment for a inquisitive seven year old. One day in 1944 during World War II I noticed an older American Indian driving the then traditional team of horses and wagon. He was slouched down as he passed me. Later as I continued to view the daily activity I saw him return. This time a young soldier in uniform sat beside him proud and tall towering over his companion. As I watched…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
The story is based on a memory from my childhood. As a seven year old I often stood on the fence surrounding our family home facing the street in Pine Ridge, South Dakota. It ran north past our home and provided entertainment for a inquisitive seven year old. One day in 1944 during World War II I noticed an older American Indian driving the then traditional team of horses and wagon. He was slouched down as he passed me. Later as I continued to view the daily activity I saw him return. This time a young soldier in uniform sat beside him proud and tall towering over his companion. As I watched the two riding toward me I could see the older man slowly beginning to straighten up and before they were out of my view he was sitting as tall and proud as the young soldier. I always thought of it as a father who came to town to meet the local bus to pick up his son who was home on leave. For seventy years this memory was kept alive in my heart. Now I give it back to the great grandchildren of the men and women who served their country he story is based on a memory from my childhood. As a seven year old I often stood on the fence surrounding our family home facing the street in Pine Ridge, South Dakota. It ran north past our home and provided entertainment for a inquisitive seven year old. One day in 1944 during World War II I noticed an older American Indian driving the then traditional team of horses and wagon. He was slouched down as he passed me. Later as I continued to view the daily activity I saw him return. This time a young soldier in uniform sat beside him proud and tall towering over his companion. As I watched the two riding toward me I could see the older man slowly beginning to straighten up and before they were out of my view he was sitting as tall and proud as the young soldier. I always thought of it as a father who came to town to meet the local bus to pick up his son who was home on leave. For seventy years this memory was kept alive in my heart. Now I give it back to the great grandchildren of the men and women who served their country. The stories of the service men and women are based on the history of those who served but all characters are fictitious. Not all battles of World War II are covered in this book. This is a telling of what the Native Americans who served shared with the students. May God bless them and their descendants who keep their memories alive.