Pay It Forward

Indian On The Sound - 1895

The old Indian wrapped himself in the trade blanket; his most prized possession.  Over and over he mumbled his death song; struggling towards the cave he’d found as a young man.  The last of his tribe, the old man had buried his grandson, skin eroded with pustules, just hours ago.

Finally reaching the well-hidden high mountain cave the old man expended the last of his strength  crawling inside.  He discarded the blanket despite the bitter cold, chanting his death song one final time.   

Seventeen decades later the young couple enjoying the last adventure vacation of the summer found the cave.

“Look Ken!  There’s something inside!”

“It looks like an old dead person!  Don’t touch it.  I think it’s been here for a very long time.  We’ll report to the ranger station when we get back down the mountain.”

“Look at this blanket!  It’s so beautiful.  He’s got no use for it anymore.  I want it!”  Donna wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and twirled.  “Let’s take it along.”

“Ok, but only until we rejoin the group.  We’ll give it to the park ranger on the way down.”

The blanket was a sensation.  All the girls in the international tour group wanted a picture. They posed, wearing the ancient artifact; boyfriends draping arms causally around the girl’s shoulders.

At the airport there were goodbye hugs all round then everyone hurried to catch flights to home towns all over the world. 

The Mayo Clinic, 2018; “No cure, or treatment for smallpox exists.”