Discovering Treasure by Crystal Mary Lindsey Page A

back verandah, Connor pulled off his boots to walk into the house in socked feet. Treasure concluded she better follow suit and did so.
    Matilda was a happy soul forever laughing while pouring drinks into tall glasses. She was shoeless. The material of Treasure’s blouse was fingered tentatively –. “Funny stuff that, feels like some spider web,” whereas she burst out laughing at her own joke. Treasure supposed to someone who had never seen many different materials that perhaps it did feel like soft web. Matilda’s dress was a serviceable cotton with huge orange flowers on it. Looking closer, the flowers had vines and buds bursting into bloom. It was very unusual and actually tasteful.
    â€œWhere did you buy your dress, Matilda?” Treasure asked with genuine interest.
    â€œMe no buy dress, me paint material and Mrs Nellie fix dress for me. Mrs Nellie one clever lady!” This was becoming more interesting by the minute. Matilda, without knowing it, was a talented artist.
    â€œAre there other ladies like you who enjoy painting materials?” Treasure inquired while taking a seat at the table. Her lemon drink was cool and tangy and a welcome moisture to her thirsty throat.
    Matilda’s eyes twinkled, “my sister and niece come walk-about here sometimes and we all like to do this when they come. The men do their corroboree music and dance at night and sometimes fish a little by day, and we paint –, when we got the cloth.”
    This sounded fantastic to Treasure Surely she wasn’t becoming like her mother with one bright idea after the other. “How would you like to earn some money with your painting if I supply you with materials to paint on?”
    Matilda looked at Connor for confirmation. “I don’t know Missus, this is something I talk with Mr Connor about, ‘cause white people got strange ideas. Matilda go out and take time in gunyah and talk to spirits and listen to what they say. You look like good white fella, but I first consult with spirits.”
    So it was left at that. Treasure was unsure what, “talking to the spirits” meant but knew Connor would put her wise on their journey back to town.
    Riding in his rattle-trap of a truck – with her bag slung in the back, Treasure sat beside Connor as he drove, bouncing and almost hitting her head on the canvas ceiling, so that she wished the trip over. Dusty grit coated the inside of her mouth. Dirt flew in the windows to cover her immaculate dress. All she longed for was a long soak in the tub and to wash the gunk from her hair. Yet, she still needed further understandings about what Matilda voiced in regard to talking to spirits.

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    Treasure’s special gift.
    Connor understood her naivety, she only desired to understand. “Yes, our indigenous folk are suspicious of the white man and rightly so. They haven’t always been treated properly or respected for their own point of view. We Christians worship a God, the one who made everything. The aboriginal worships the same God, but in a different way. Through our mixing together they are learning about our Holy Spirit, as a helper, and how Jesus died for everyone, and that we are all the same color under our skins. Matilda likes to talk to and listen to the Holy Spirit now.”
    Treasure considered this. Hmmm, so really we are all God’s creation and he loves all of us. No matter what differences we see in others, he sees us all as the same. The eyes ofTreasures heart began to open with a new revelation of God’s relationship to man, and it seemed very agreeable.“So Connor, were you always a Christian? I mean, were you brought up to believe as you do, or how did you find this faith you speak of?” She looked over at him, his eyes were on the road ahead, but he wanted to be sure that his answer didn’t confuse.
    â€œI wasn’t brought up to know much about God. Yet in all my dealings with people, I have come