A STORY OF A STAFF

I am the invisible holder of the Staff.
I have it, but it does not belong to me.

Where did you get it from?
How old is it?
How long have you had it?
How many countries has it travelled?
Does it have powers?
Have you hit anyone with it?
When you throw it does it become a snake?
How do you feel walking with it?
What does it mean to you?,

people ask. Often they see my staff before they see me.

It was today two years ago in Alaska that one worrior gave me my staff. I carved it and we walked together from the Pacific coast of Alaska to the Atlantic coast in Canada, across all countries of Central America, across the Caribbean, through Colombia, Ecuador, Venezuela, Brazil, French Guyana, Surinam, Netherland Antilles, Peru, Bolivia, Argentina and Paraguay. Master said that he had found the staff floating in a river twenty six years ago. At the time I received it I was twenty six.

I guess it has powers, I just do not know which ones yet. No, I have never had to hit anyone with it and it has not become a snake when it has fallen.

I do feel I am different when I walk with it, but it is hard to explain how. I feel timeless. To the one who stops to help me along the way I hand my staff. At first I did not think a lot of this gesture - the truck driver would take it to accomodate it in his vehicle, but now more and more I see it as a sign of trust and greeting. My staff, like my master once told me, has become an extension of my arm.