THE HEALER’S RING

A Short Story by Mary Jeanette Clement

Every time we take on a new belief system or are given Divine insight, we are tested. This is a story of one of my tests.

In 1984, I was in Richmond, Virginia, teaching criminal justice at a large university. In addition to teaching, I took classes to continue learning. One was on Parapsychology with Dr. Glenn Hawks. My original purpose was to discern among strange events that my students, often police officers related to me, what Hollywood showed in such movies as “Ghost” and real spiritual events of the Divine. In that class we learned about Bob Monroe who bought 500 acres of land in Nelson County, Virginia, to establish a training center to teach people how to leave their bodies and safely return with information of what he/she saw without their bodies. He called this process “Gateway” and his organization the Monroe Institute.

Since I was new to Virginia, I had no idea where Nelson County was located but found it was a special place. Since I had difficulties with a previous neck surgery I sought the help of therapist in Feldenkrais. She just happened to be one of the several persons who bought 25 acres for a home and barn from Bob Monroe. As I came through the main entrance, I felt such a surge of energy in my heart and head–as if I were a car in 5th gear. So, I got out and asked permission from the spirits guarding the property. I thought to myself that either this is Native American sacred land or this is where space ships land.

While the therapist worked on me, I got this strong impression I was to walk her land. So, after our session I asked permission. It was granted and I walked it not knowing what I was to find. It took quite a while but then I saw this area over protected by the trees and I walked into it and stood on many, many rocks. I began to cry. Although I had never been in Virginia before, I knew the young woman in her 40’s, a great American Indian healer, who lay in that grave. My voice did the ancient toning. After I had completed the task, I left and returned to the therapist. “Do you know you have an Indian grave on your property?” “Strange that you should say that,” she replied. Then she added: “Just the other day someone did a Gateway and came back and told me not to cut the trees because there was an Indian grave on the land.”

Needless to say, this experience caused me to have many questions. I returned to the grave, took a stone and went to Dr. Hawks where he helped me to relax while holding the stone. Now, this stone was amazing for at one pointed end it would draw out negativity and black substances while at the other pointed end of the stone your questions were answered in your mind before you had finished forming the words with your mouth. It seems that the land had for over 500 years been the sacred land for several tribes who held spring and fall celebrations, games, and sacred rituals. This helped build up purer energy held there by the surrounding mountains. However, Native American spirits were upset with the new people coming in because they brought lower frequencies of fear and doubt. For example, the Indians fasted and prayed on the land and would even abstain from sexual intercourse with their spouses while on the land. I learned that the woman in the grave was brought there from the reservations out West. In other words, they walked from the reservation with her knowing she was going to pass in about 1910. She was an Arapaho. As a small child, she was the lone survivor of a massacre to her tribe. That is when I became her spirit guide and continued with her bringing healing energy to her hands. She married “Chief Walking Stick” who was native to Virginia. When they buried her, they put lots of rocks that they had picked up along the way to cover her grave and protect her from the animals. I asked “The Princess” if she would stay and help me be the healer that she was. She replied, “No. It’s not me; it was you. Just start rubbing your hands together and you will remember.”

In my final visits to her site, I was told that she had left a ring that was to be mine. I foolishly began to think that it was buried with her. Have you ever heard of someone digging up a grave of an American Indian to get his/her jewelry? Only whites bury their people with jewelry on and hence have grave robbers. Needless to say, I tried to no avail over turning each moss covered rock.

I put up a protective shield over the grave area and renamed it Eagle’s Nest. Eagle’s Nest was the name of the Indian that the healer was trying to clear his name. He had been a victim of being falsely accused. Then, I left and never returned as I was instructed to do. Still, I wondered about the ring.

As the years went by, I continued with my teaching, research and community service through the University. I also helped students excel academically. I had the ability to identify people who were struggling with different styles of learning. Usually, the person is more right-brain dominate trying to survive in a left-brain dominate learning environment. As a college professor, I had the opportunity to refer students to the proper authorities to get tested and change the testing techniques so that students could graduate from college. For example, some stuck students couldn’t pass the math requirement. They were men who were veterans, had families, were serious students and wanted to graduate. They were unaware that they had a math learning disability. One student took the math class four times, delayed his graduation for two years and I was the first person to identify it and help him graduate immediately.

In my own classroom, I used multi-styles of learning so that students had better recall and excelled. One such student was a battered wife–the kind where the husband tries to kill the wife by pushing her down the stairs. After being in the hospital for several weeks from her fall and head injuries, she decided to return to college but this time in criminal justice so that she can help other battered women. That is where I met her.

She had a learning disability and yet with guidance she excelled. She took every class I offered and did A work. The techniques I showed her permitted her to do well in other core classes and she could finally graduate. This tall, beautiful blond woman came up on the stage as her name was called to receive her well earned diploma from our department chair. I notice that she had a dear skin apron over her black graduation gown. She got down on her knees before me and thanked me. After the ceremony, her parents invited me to join them for lunch before the Dean’s reception.

The events of the lunch were such that I will never forget. It began by my asking about the deer skin apron. The student’s mother, Viola Woelfl, explained that she was a chief and spiritual leader of the Onaweha tribe (part of the Comanche nation). Her mother was wearing a lot of turquoise and silver American Indian jewelry. Then she said that when a person has done such wonderful things to help a member of the tribe, the tribe adopts the person. She wanted to adopt me and give me something. I agreed to the adoption but was worried about any jewelry because I don’t wear much jewelry. Then she reached across the table and opened her hand. In her hand was a silver ring with a large turquoise. She said it was Uncle Charlie’s ring. I knew better. This was the ring promised by the Healer. Now, I knew that American Indians practice a custom know as Turkey medicine (the great give-away). This is when they pass their treasurers to others when they move on.

A few years later, in 1999, Viola Woelfl blessed a peace pipe as a ceremony with my students that I took to Palestine as part of my Fulbright to teach at Birzeit University in the West Bank. She also gave me a deer skin mantle, a leather bag for small items used in healings, my new name, NEMENOS, meaning “of the people” and registered me with her tribe in Oklahoma. As for the ring, the silver wore thin and needed to be repaired. I took it to a jeweler who looked at it. Shaking his head he said, “This ring really isn’t worth fixing!” I told him to go ahead and fix it; I would pay his fee. He shook his head in disbelief. He just didn’t understand but to me, the old ring was priceless.