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that was beautiful........thank you for sharing. teddie....... ----- Original Message ----- From: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> To: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> Sent: Wednesday, November 21, 2001 7:25 PM Subject: [Native_American] Thanksgiving - A Day of Reflection Story by ShyHawk(FM) > ============================================================ > Celebrate Thanksgiving with Liparita, Winery of the Year > Wine sampler 25-30% off - choose from 4 award-winning wines > Call 1-800-547-2748 to order! > http://click.topica.com/caaaepXb1ddNBb2GrBsa/Liparita Cellars > ============================================================ > > > Thanksgiving - A Day of Reflection > <A HREF="mailto:FM [EMAIL PROTECTED]?subject=StoryTellers - Thanksgiving -"> > ShyHawk</A> > [Unable to display image] > This morning breaks with a bright blue sky. Streaky wisps of white race > across the horizon. The wind is strong and the temperature in the teens. The > soft yellow glow of the eastern sky reflects on my face and the touch warms > my heart. > > As I enter the forest today, my heart is heavy. Today is Thanksgiving, for > most of this country a time of joy. For me It is a time of reflection. This > day seems to match my feelings. The wind cries through the trees. As I walk > along the Noisy River, I think of the name given it by the Unami People. I > seek a place to say morning prayers and greet the new day -- the new > beginning. I pass several beautiful places but they do not feel right today. > > I told my wife I would not be long. Now time seems to fade. My face stings > from the gusts of wind. My ears burn and begin to numb. My eyes begin to > tear. Still I walk on. I see the beauty of this land and can only imagine its > wonders when the forest stretched across all this land. > > My heart tells me to stop -- this is the place. It is hard to lite the sage > today as my hands are stiff and numb from the cold. The sweet smell is stolen > away quickly today on an unrelenting wind. I spread my blanket on the shore > overlooking a cascade of the river. They seem quiet today -- their music is > hidden by the rush of the wind through the trees. > > I offer tobacco to the Four Directions, INA, and Tunkasila. I pause to listen > and for the first time the beauty of this place catches my eye. The river > runs before me with a dark blue hue topped by small white waves crashing over > the granite rocks. The rocks sparkle with little speckles of color trapped > with in them. The far shore is a solid wall of hardwood trees. Many shades of > gray and browns mix and mingle together to form a tapestry in my eye and > heart. For a moment my heart is lifted and an inner warmth makes me forget > the sting of the wind for now. > > Before me stand three trees only feet apart. I did not notice them upon my > arrival. On the left is an old shag bark tree, in the middle stands a large > beech tree, and on the right a small sassafras tree. Surrounding them are > small bushes devoid of leaves now. Their twisted limbs are brown and form a > lace pattern. This subtle appearance is highlighted by many bright red > berries -- a stark beauty that stands in great contrast to all the dull > browns and grays surrounding them. Behind this scene is the majestic blue > horizon and soft yellow sphere slowly rising -- it appears to lift from the > river s surface this morning. > > I look on the old shag bark tree. The bark is in thick layers -- rugged and > wrinkled. The limbs are knurled and twisted. The trunk is over two feet. The > tree has seen many years and changes along this Unami Shore. My mind wanders > and time fades. I see before me an old elder from this land. He speaks not > but I feel his pain. My eyes tear and my heart breaks. I remember the lies > and harsh treatment of these fine people. I think of the destruction of the > land that continues even now. Before my eyes an old village opens before me. > One that now only has traces left to be seen by the human eye. I see the > forest as it was. I see the teaching circles, marker stones and trees, and > the mounds. > > My heart grows even lower with the thought of losing even this land I pray on > today. For I know not how long it will remain unscarred. In three days a vote > comes to save or develop the land of my ancestors. All that can be done has > been done -- but I fear greed will win in the end. My mind clears and I now > pray for guidance and lessons. I feel there is more to be done. > > I ask for Creator to guide and teach me -- to prepare me for these battles. > For the first time this morning I am joined by others. A small flock of black > ducks fly over at tree top height. I hear their approach. Their wing beats > are one of the fastest and the whistling sound can be heard before they can > be seen. It is a great gift. They are a beautiful sight. Usually they would > have long since left this area for southern territories. Wopila, Tunkasila. > > I now focus on the middle tree -- the beech tree. It is not quite as large as > the shag bark. Its bark is smooth and lighter in color. The tree stands > straight. It does not show the ravages of time and scars of battle that the > shag bark wears as a symbol of age. In this tree I see myself. As this tree > my feet are rooted in this mountain. Yet as this beech I have not the scars > as the old tree. Without these scars I also lack a lot of the lessons learned > from the battles given with age. I reflect on the responsibility I now carry > in trying to protect this land. The people of this land were to be Protectors > the Old Ways and Mother Earth. > > As the beech stands in the shadow of the shag bark - I too stand in the > shadow of the elders and ancestors. Here the shag bark tree helps the beech > by shielding it from the winds and weather with its own body. I look to the > elders and my ancestors to speak to my heart. I need to learn from their > lessons. In this way I may do my best in the many struggles facing this land > and our people. Although the struggles seem to never end -- my heart again > begins to warm. I feel the old ones gather near to me. For a moment the time > between us fades and we stand together enjoying the moment and beauty > surrounding us here. For me - I wish this could last forever. Time and place > are forgotten. The pain of life is gone. For the instant I am united with my > old families and the land. Creators gifts stretch before me and I am content. > Aho > > Now the small sassafras catches my attention as it sways wildly in the strong > wind. It is not stiff with age as the other two brothers it stands in the > shadow of. Here I see the face of my son. I wonder what will remain of these > gifts for him and his children. I am reminded why I struggle so to keep the > culture, the language, and the land. I now see the trees as the ancestors, > our generation, and the generations to come. I see how the old ones speak to > my heart, the elders try to teach me, how I try to teach the next generation, > and how the young ones grow under our shadows and examples. > > I again thank the Grandfathers, Mother Earth, and Creator for all the gifts > they have given me on entering this shell. I thank them for all the lessons > and gifts given to me till this day. I thank them for the lessons shared and > teachers shown to me. I thank them for this land that is still unspoiled and > all the gifts contained in it. Aho > > I ask for guidance to keep my feet straight. I ask for lessons so I may be > more effective in the struggles ahead, I ask nothing for myself. I ask these > things for our people and the children to come. > > I sit silent and still. I do not feel the cold. I am warm and my heart swells > from the experiences given to me this morning. It is a good day(Anpetu > waste'). Gifts of tobacco are offered in return before rising to leave. > > Now reality renters my life. My bones ache, my muscles are stiff, my hands > can barely flex, and my ears are numb. Yet my heart burns with a renewed > warmth. I am thankful for this and every day Creator places before us. With > this the whistling sound again is heard - I look to the sky and a second > flock of black ducks streak overhead. We both most be on our way from this > wondrous place. The short trip I told my wife of has stretched into a full > morning and she will be worried. > > Tunkasila omakiyi miye. > Written by ShyHawk, [EMAIL PROTECTED], Thanksgiving 2000 > Dedicated to the Elders and Old Ones who teach and lead us, Wopila. > Aho! > > > ============================================================ > Introducing Adobe DesignTeam, the Web-based collaboration service from Adobe Studio(r).Try it free for a month and see why it's the easiest way to manage your design projects. Get your free 30 day trial now > http://click.topica.com/caaaeiYb1ddNBb2GrBsf/Adobe DesignTeam > ============================================================ > > Visit and show your support for the Grass Roots Oyate > http://members.tripod.com/GrassRootsOyate > > Clemency for Leonard Peltier. 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