Copyright ©2002 Jorie West

Her path had clearly been defined

the gift of healing was divine

But miracles performed through her

would bring about mixed feelings

Tending wounds of those who fell

knowing how to make them well

Honored by her tribal kin as one

whose faith brought healing

She was summoned by a local town

An orphaned girl had just been found

Her body weak and fevered

The child was nearly dead

This little girl, though mighty brave

seemed to sickly to be saved

But the woman did not falter

As she moved toward the bed

She knelt beside her lying there

Bowed her head and said a prayer

Chanting "Giga v hna i Tsisa

O'er the child

As the woman prayed on bended knee

The fever broke quite suddenly

Life returned and when they heard

The people just went wild

The crowd in awe began to yell

"An angel!", "A witch from hell!"

They argued with each other

and some spat upon her face

"What kind of gift has this woman?"

"Beware!", they cried, "this is an omen

We must purge ourselves from evil

Before she leaves this place"

She had Irish blood but all they saw

Was a heathen who prayed to a God she called

Wakantanka, Yihowa, and another Indian name

Their blinded eyes refused to see

That their Holy God could ever be

Creator who loved His children

All the same.

A gift from God? A witch from hell?

They did not know, how could they tell?

Ignorance and hate prevailed so they led

Her out of town

Medicine Woman, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Medicine woman ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Her heart was good and she knew well

The God she served was not from hell

U ne la nv hi , Creator of earth and sky

Her love for him was deep and strong

She had no doubt where she belonged

"Hokahe" they heard her say,

"this is a good day to die"

She welcomed those that only she could see

And the angels sang......ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh