"When I was just a boy of twelve, my daddy explained that I was never to go into the North mountains. He said that the Cherokee Indians claimed they were dangerous and filled with bad spirits.  The medicine men even said that the Great Spirit had told the people to stay away.

"Of course, I didn't listen. So one day, I took my new 12-gauge shotgun which I had received for my birthday and took off to conquer the mountain. I thought I was a man, so I didn't take anything with me but my new shotgun and 12 shells. I was going to fend for myself and bring home a turkey for mama. I didn't tell her I was leaving."

Grandfather said the mountain was bigger than he expected and it took him the better part of the day to reach the ridge. He said he stood on a flat rock at the top of the ridge and gazed into the valley below, the valley the Cherokee said no one should enter. Suddenly the rock he was standing on gave way, he and the
rock went sliding down. The rock Grandfather was riding on slide off an embankment slamming into trees, causing him and the the flying boulder to spin one way then the next, finally coming to a halt in a creek.

Grandfather said, "I road that rock down, like a magic carpet. I held on with both hands, sitting down with my new shotgun cradled between my knees and under one arm. When that rock hit that darn creek it thru me into the trees, busting my gun stock and bending the hammer sideways. The sight of my new birthday present, lying there on the ground nearly broke my heart. I picked up the gun,
the barrel was still straight and that the stock and hammer could be replaced. I then looked up from were I fell and saw it was too steep to climb back up, I'd have to find another way out. With my gun broken, my hunting was finished for the day. If I were still   at the top of the ridge I could just head back home, and get
there before dark. If I didn't find a trail soon I'd be stuck here all night."

As Grandfather expected, he spent the night in the forbidden valley. The next day he followed the mountain bottom for hours, looking for a trail. Nothing on the horizon looked familiar, he heard sounds in the trees and bushes, but never saw one animal, not even a bird. Grandfather said he saw plants and flowers he
had never seen before or since. He walked and walked with nothing to eat but a few berries, he was hungry, tired and just wanted to be home.

It was getting dark again and he was beginning to get scared, he knew he was going to have to spend another night, so he gathered some wood and built a fire the old fashion way with a stick, dry grass, a small piece of wood and a boot string. The night was pitch black without a moon, he heard the night critters and
caught the occasional glare of their eyes. Grandfather said,"I may have just turned 12 years old and thought I had become a man, but I just couldn't help it, I was scared and I started to cry."

Grandfather said, "I sat there with my head bent over my folded arms crying like I've never cried before. When I looked up and   wiped my eyes I saw the shape of a man across from me through the fire. He was tall and dark, he wore a shirt and trousers made of deer skin and shoes to match, and on his head sat a covering made of rabbit fur with a rawhide band and three eagle feathers hanging from one side. His physical features were like the Cherokee but his skin was some what different, a light shone from his face, his eyes glistened like the sparks of the fire. He looked directly at me for a while and then spoke. "I heard your cry and saw your tears and I came to help," the man said. "I saw you fall yesterday and since your were not hurt I decided to follow and watch over you, it wasn't till now that I decided to approach."

My Grandfather went on to say, "the stranger asked if he could sit down beside me, I told him, please do, I almost jumped out of my skin when the red stranger stepped right into the fire and out the other side without even stirring the flame or burning his clothes. He sat down beside me and started to talk."

He told my Grandfather that he knew he was lost and that it was ok to cry. He said he could tell my Grandfather was just a boy on the edge of becoming a man. He told Grandfather that often, when boys in his tribe passed through the fire from boyhood to young brave there is a stinging in the heart that causes a great sorrow within, it was nothing to be ashamed of. Grandfather asked him if he were of the Cherokee tribe, the stranger said he was of a tribe that was more ancient than the Cherokee. He told Grandfather a tribal name he never heard before. Grandfather said he was friendly, spoke English and shared his food with him.

Not knowing what to say next, Grandfather showed the stranger his broken gun. The stranger told my Grandfather that he didn't know much about guns but one thing he knew for sure was that neither a gun, or bow and arrow, or hunting knife made a boy a man. It was the sting of the arrow within a young man's heart that brings about a change in what he was yesterday, into what he has become today, it is a quickening of the spirit that brings about this wisdom into a young man's life. 

He went on to tell my Grandfather all about the customs of his people, how they lived out of the sight of both the white man and Cherokee tribe. He told me how his people lived in houses grouped tightly together underground. The stranger told Grandfather that his people had lived in this region since the beginning of time, both his tribe and a tribe of little people. He told of a time after the great flood when his people and the little people divided over who had control over the sacred powers. He told Grandfather how the little people had stole the sacred basket of potions, magic and the secrets of making charms. The little people then escaped into the far southern reaches of the Mountains of the Blue Sky.

He told Grandfather that the young men of his tribe have had to pass several trials in order to become a warrior. One of those trials was that each young brave had to steal back one of the magical charms of the little people, the most valuable charm, being the charm of the crossed stones. The power of these stones would enable a warrior to travel through the ground or make himself invisible. He said he had followed Grandfather for nearly two days, within arms distance and Grandfather didn't know he was there.

My Grandfather was spellbound, he asked this visitors if he had one of those crossed stones. The stranger reached into his medicine pouch and pulled out a crossed stone two inches long by two inches across, showed it to him and said it was his most prized possession even though there were other charms of great
power. Grandfather asked him why it was so special, this is what the stranger had to say:

"In the North mountain lands that the white man now calls Georgia, the little people lived hiding in seclusion from his tribe, only coming out at night because they were afraid the people of his tribe would steal back the magical powers.

"One night, many many generations ago, the little people gathered together to celebrate the coming of the Great Spirit. They danced, sang and feasted through the night, near a pool deep in the woods. At the height of their celebration a spirit messenger appeared before them and said he was from a village in the distant called "Land of the Dawn." The spirit messenger told them that Great Spirit had become angry with humanity. The little people listened quietly as the messenger explained that because of the Evil that man had done against the Earth, he was going to cleanse the world of this evil by fire, air, earth and water.

"The little people's hearts were filled with sadness and they  began to cry. As they cried, their tears fell to the ground and turned into stones. The stones were not round or square but formed the shapes of tiny crosses. Long after the messenger left, the little people continued to cry, they cried until all their magic poured out in tears onto the ground. They knew the ways of old were coming to an end and that the sacred magic would no longer be theirs to possess. The little people disappeared into the forest around the fields that held their tiny crosses. When
they saw someone come and pick up one of their tear made crosses, they would follow them and watch over them, bringing them good luck. The little people too were changing with the times."

With that, the stranger handed my Grandfather the crystal cross and said, "I give this to you because your tears today are special, you are becoming a man and you will need great strength to endure what lies ahead in your life. Keep this tiny crystal cross with you always and when you grow old and are ready to pass beyond this world, give the cross to someone special, you will know who that will be when the time comes."

He went on to tell Grandfather that tomorrow he would lead him to a secret trail that will lead out of the valley and back home, but now he should rest, for the journey is long. The next morning, Grandfather woke up to find the stranger was gone. On the ground was an arrow made of stones. A short distance away
was another arrow which led to the next, till Grandfather found the secret trail. When Grandfather got home his mama and daddy were sure glad to see him. His daddy said he would get the shotgun fixed right away, but from now on, let them know before he took off again. Grandfather said he stood there in front of his mama, daddy, brothers and sisters clutching the stone in his pocket, never telling his family just exactly what happen. He told me he never told anyone including granny, but everyone that was close to Grandfather knew he always carried that stone.

He gave me that stone on my twelfth birthday, later that week he died in his sleep. Now Grandfather was a wise and honest man and he did like to tell a story or two and some of those stories he told me might have been a little too big to behold. The Faerie Tears story found a place in my heart, and I've never walked a day in my life without carrying Grandfather's good luck charm. 

As I grew older I heard people called those crystal crosses "Fairy Crosses". I don't really know where the line between fact and fiction lies when it comes to this tale, but one thing I do know for sure, I'm really fond of the way my Grandfather told me that story and nobody can take that from me.

May the gods lead you to the right path.

When we part, we always say:
Blessed Be!

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