Hearth Fire Tales with Grandmother Rhonda (Unci)

Food for Body; Food for Spirit
written for Jarrett and Landon 2013

There was once a beautiful Zuzeca (snake) that lived down by the Cheyenne river. She was very wise as she had seen many summers and had just laid the 8^th clutch of eggs down in the grassy banks where the sun was warm and sparkled upon the water.

The way of Zuzeca is to leave the clutch as her job is done and it is tunkasila who will look over the eggs and all is as it should be like that.

So she made her way on down through the weeds and went about looking for mice and other tasty things to eat and she was having a wonderful day in the warm sun as the clutch of eggs lay in the grasses. It would be about 2 moons before they would hatch out into beautiful Zuzeca  (snake).

Over on the other side of the banks of the Cheyenne River, a family of maká (skunk) had been living and the kits were just now opening their eyes. Their Ina (mother) knew that it was almost time now she could wean them and they were old enough now to make a life of their own. This is the way of the Maka, and it is good, but for now they shared a den together as a family.

There were two brothers in the litter of Maka who were best friends. One was more adventurous than the other and so he would wander out a little further each day exploring everything around him. Each afternoon he would come back to the den and tell his brother of all the exciting things he had found. He would bring back treasures for the brother to see. The other brother, who was only minutes younger, would tell him what he had found because he was very smart and though he was quiet he had a gift of deep thought and was wise beyond his young age. “Look what I found brother!” The adventurous brother said one day – and he showed him this strange, round and had pretty brown circles on the side. He put it down beside the other brother and they sniffed it with their wet noses and pushed it gently with their paws. “What is it?” he asked. The younger brother looked at it with great curiosity and sat back for a moment thinking, praying, what could this be? He was about to make his best guess when they both were startled by a pair of wiggly things coming out of the round hard thing which the younger was about to call a “shell”. “WOAH!” The older one said and the younger watched quietly as something long and slimy slowly unfolded from the shell. “Hello!” said this thing to them in the way animals can speak to one another. “Hi!” Said the brothers together. “What are you?” Said the younger Maka. “I am a snail” it said and it wiggled until it could see the brothers a bit better. “What are you?” it said and the older brother said “We are MAKA!” he said proudly! And they visited a while and learned more about each other. Finally the younger brother advised that their new friend should be taken back to the river bank where he could return to his home. And so the brother gently picked up the snail in his mouth and carried him back to where he found him.

On and on this went as the brothers grew and began to learn more about this wonderful place they lived in the banks of the Cheyenne River.

Playing and eating and exploring were an important part of their learning. And they knew soon it would be time for their little family to disband and at night the two would talk quietly about where they would go and what they would do. And as the days went on they found it was now just the two of them in this den as the others, including their Mother, had gone off to make new homes and start new families. But the brothers were very close and they decided to stay together for a while longer as this was a great place to be for a while. They would play together and pretend fight, stamping their feet and charging at one another with tails all bushy and and standing up as though they would at any moment spray the other. It was great fun and they were very happy.

One day the brother was out exploring and found something in the grassy banks where the sun was warm and sparkled upon the water. There were about 14 of these odd shaped things laying close together. They looked like eggs and the brother thought he had found something very tasty to eat! But he could only carry one and, thinking about his brother back in the den, he carefully picked one up and began his journey back to the den.

It was very hot and so he stopped in a shade for a while to rest. And put the egg down carefully and then started digging under a big fallen tree in the shade to look for worms. He heard something above him and looked up into the branches of the tall cottonwood tree and smiled real big. “Hau – Hinhan!” (Hello Owl!) he called. And Hinhan twisted his head down to see little Maka, his white stripe gleaming in the sunshine. “Hau, Maka” the Owl replied. Then Hinhan spotted the egg and he shifted nervously on the branch under him. “What do you have there?” He asked. “I found this egg up there in grassy bank where the sun is warm.” he said “And what do you plan to do with this egg?” Asked Hinhan, because he could tell that the little Maka did not really know what he had found. “I don't know,” said Maka, “I thought I'd take it to my little brother and let him see this fine egg. Maybe we will eat it for dinner!” Hinhan bobbed up and down a bit and then closed his large eyes. Maka thought maybe he had fallen asleep, but really the wise bird was saying a prayer to understand what he might tell the young one of this treasure he had found. Finally he opened his eyes again and he told Maka “You have indeed found a great treasure! But understand, young one, that food comes in many forms. What feeds your body can not always feed your spirit. And what the spirit needs sometimes is not everlasting.” The young Maka looked up at the wise bird, very confused. He knew Hinhan was very wise, an elder and his greatest gift was to see beyond what could be seen so he chose to hang on to those words for later and maybe his younger brother could help him figure this out. “Pilamayaye Hinhan!” he called out as the bird took flight across the sky and out of sight.

This was a very long and hard walk, going back to the den with this egg! And the poor Maka made many stops to rest a bit and to eat when he found food along the way. So now he sits by the river and is getting a drink when he sees Sugila (Fox) there who is also getting a drink. Maka, being a friendly skunk, called out to his friend “Hau Sugila!” And Sugila lifted his head from the water to see Maka and says hello back to him. Now everyone knows that Sugila is very sharp and tricky so when Maka saw him looking at the egg, he got a little nervous. Sensing that the young skunk was suspicious, Sugila smiled sweetly and said to him “What is that you have with you Maka?” and started crossing the water. Maka moved closer to the egg, putting it between his front paws just in case, for he knew the tricks of Sugila! “I found this egg up there in grassy bank where the sun is warm.” he said. Sugila licked his lips as he smelled the egg even from where he stood now near the timid little Maka. Sugila could tell that this egg was near its time to hatch and he thought it was funny that Maka did not know what he had found. So he tried not to laugh and he said “So – what do you plan to do with this egg Maka?” and the little skunk looked down and then back at the fox. “I think I will take it to my brother so he can see what treasure I've found.” He said “I thought I might share it with my brother for dinner, but then Hinhan said something about feeding the body not feeding the spirit..... I don't know what he meant you know he likes to talk in riddles sometimes.” 

Sugila smiled, showing his sharp teeth and he laughed just a little bit. “It is true, Maka, that you have found a very interesting treasure!” said Sugila. “And you might find that it is good to eat,” he said, and then he looked away “OR,” he said, as though he had thought of a brilliant idea, “perhaps you will find a new friend!”

Now Maka had something else to consider! And he became excited to hear this as he had not considered this before now! “Thank you Sugila!” He said and he picked up the egg to carry it on to the den with him. As he scurried away, the wind in the trees made their sound so that he did not hear the laughter of Sugila.

Finally he was back at the den. And his brother had gathered some nice worms for them to eat for their dinner. And when the older brother came into the den, he grew excited to see what treasure he had found this time on his adventure. “Hau sukaku ki” (hello (younger) brother) “Look what I found!” he said and the younger brother came over to get a better look. First he sniffed the egg, and then he pushed it gently with his paw. He walked around to the other side and he looked up at his brother and his eyes grew wide. “Where did you find this?” he asked. The older brother stamped his feet nervously because he could tell the younger brother knew something more about this egg. “I.... I found this egg up there in grassy bank where the sun is warm.” he said. “I see.” Said the younger brother. “What is it?” asked the older brother. “I'm not quite sure,” said the younger one. “but I believe, brother, that this is not a bird egg.” he said. “What should we do?” said the older brother. “I'm not sure, what did you want to do with it?” asked the younger one. “Well, I thought we might have it for dinner, but you have worked hard to bring us these nice worms.” he said. “Lets just put it over there and wait till morning and decide. I'm tired and it can wait for a while.” He said. They agreed and ate their dinner, talking about their day and about what they thought the egg was. And finally they curled up together and went to sleep.

In the morning they opened their eyes and stretched out very big. Their bellies were rumbling and then the older brother thought about the egg and he raised up to look again at the treasure. He was surprised to find the egg had a different shape now! It was no longer round and long, but kind of flat, like someone had let the air out of it and it was flat! “Brother!” he said with excitement “What?” Said the younger, who was still trying to wake up. “LOOK!” And he pushed his brother with his paw to make him turn toward the now deflated egg. The younger brother, who could not see as well as the older, stared at the shape beside them and he got up to get a closer look. And as he walked across the floor of the den, something moved that made them both jump. Together they stood with their tails held high and their noses reaching out to sniff the air at this long, wiggly thing in front of them. They had never before seen anything like it. “Snail?” whispered the older brother “No, can't be,” said the younger, “Where is its shell?!” and then Zuzeca stuck out its tongue and both brothers screamed at the same time, making Zuzeca recoil back a bit and it made a funny sound like rain falling on a hot rock.

“H-h-h-hello?” Said the older brother finally. And zuzeca whispered back “h-h-h-hello”. And then he slowly uncoiled and came a little closer. “What are you?” asked the younger brother. “I am Zuzeca,” he said “and I am sorry, I don't know where I am! What are you?” And the older brother told him how he had found him on the grassy bank above where the sun was warm and had brought him to their den. And so began their journey together.

They spent many days playing together. Zuzeca would hide under the leaves that now covered the floor of the forest or in between rocks on the cliff side and the brothers would go sniff him out. It was great fun! They shared stores and they would adventure off and come together again at night and do it all over again the next day.

On one day when playing their games, Hinhan came to the trees and saw the three friends playing together. This odd group of friends made him happy and made him sad at the same time. And, not wanting to spoil the fun they were having, he flew off to the north side of the rocky cliff to land in a tree and wait for the right time to speak to the Older brother who he knew had brought the snake to the Maka den.

“Hello again Maka” he said, when the older brother was nearer to the tree, grubbing for bugs. “Hau Hinhan!” he said. “How are you today?” The wise bird looked down at him and smiled. “I'm well thank you.” he said. “I see that you have found a new friend.” Maka smiled back and nodded “Yes we have! And oh Hinhan he is SO much fun! He can catch the biggest bugs and things that he shares! And he is funny, and he is kind and we get along SO well! Its fun to learn from him and all the adventures that we go on! He can get down into the rock and he knows all the things down under the ground like I've never seen before!” And so went the young Maka excited to share all the wonderful new things he had learned from the new friend. Wise old Hihan, he listened patiently and when the skunk finally exhausted himself from the stories he had to share, he spoke again.

“Sweet little Maka,” he said. “Remember when you found the egg? Remember when I told you that some things feed our bodies and some feed our spirits?” the skunk nodded and sat down because he could tell that this was going to be a talk that would take some time. “Yes, I remember.” he said. “Well, my young friend”, began the wise bird, “you have found worms and bugs which fed your body and I see that you and your brother have grown very big and strong indeed!” And with this Maka sat up a little taller and puffed out his chest proudly. “And you have also found something that has fed your spirit.” And with this the skunk sank a bit while trying to think of what Hinhan was talking about. The owl flew down a bit to get closer and he spoke with great compassion and thought. “Maka,” he began, “your new friend, you can not keep with you forever.” he said gently. “He is Zuzeca... very sacred, very good, but he has a nature that is different from yours you see?” And the young skunk lowered his head a bit in thought. “No,” he said, I don't see.

By now the younger brother had come up behind him and Hinhan invited him to join them. “Please,” he said to the younger one, “sit with us for this is a wonderful lesson you have learned.” and so now the brothers together sat listening to the wise bird as he told them more than they knew about skunks and snakes. “There are many sacred Zuzeca in the He Sapa (black hills), and your new friend will soon be ready to come of his nature as you are coming of your nature.” he told them. And then the younger one realized what this meant. The wise bird could tell that the older brother had not yet received his words into his heart but that the younger one had. Tears filled the younger ones eyes at the thought of their new friend who they loved no longer able to play with them.

As they listened more to Hinhan tell them of the nature of snakes and skunks, zuzeca crept up beside them. Now the three of them were together and they sat quietly, taking in all the words that Hinhan said. Then Hinhan flew back to a higher branch and let a call out which echoed across the rocks and within minutes Bleza (pelican) came to sit with them. Carefully the owl told Bleza what was going on and the bird looked at the three friends with great love and compassion.

We know that Bleza comes to teach us about rising above what it is that we do not understand. What the spirit can see but is not visible to the flesh. And so Hihan had called him to use his good medicine to help the young friends.

The three friends said tearful goodbyes and the snake coiled gently around them for a loving hug, while the brothers could not hold back tears. For it was best, they all knew, that Bleza come take away zuzeca to a safe place where he could start a family of his own in the nature of his kind.

Carefully Bleza scooped up zuzeca and the brothers watched as he was carried away from them. Their hearts grew heavier and heavier at the thought of never seeing him again.

Hinhan came back down closer to the brothers and to comfort them he told them this. “What you have learned today sometimes takes a lifetime. It is a great gift of your spirit that you have received. You see, great lessons come in many different ways. Sometimes the lessons are short and you know what they are right away! Sometimes the lessons are easy, some are very hard. Some lessons are very long and you don't always know what it is that you are suppose to learn. But everything happens for a reason. Instead of being sad that your friend has left, be glad in your hearts for what you have learned, for the stories you shared and the time that you had together! And above all else, always remember that no one is bad or good – snakes are snakes and skunks are skunks – but they all have good hearts and good intentions. Never did the snake want to hurt you – never did you want to hurt him! Though you may never see him again – you have many things to be thankful for having had him in your life.”

So the brother left there with a lesson that stayed with them forever. Though they grew older and had families of their own, they passed along this knowledge to their children and to all others of their adventures with zuzeca and they loved him always.

What happened to zuzeca? Well he lived to be very old in the rocks of He Sapa. And he also fathered many clutches of eggs. And each time he saw tracks of Maka, he would sniff with hope that it would be one of the brothers, but it never was. Still it always kept him mindful of the great friendship that he had and his heart was forever glad for having known them.

Zuzeca (snake)
tunkasila (great spirit)
maká (skunk)
Ina (mother)
Hinhan (owl)
Sugila (Fox)
Pilamayaye (thank you)
sukaku ki (younger brother)
He Sapa (black hills)
Bleza (pelican)



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< The Greatest Gift

written for Zailynn 2009

There was a young man who was coming into age and restless in his spirit. He had started thinking about what he had heard in different ceremonies about people having “gifts”. One man in the camp had a gift of healing and another woman had a gift for making beautiful baskets. Throughout the camp he began to notice these things and it was starting to worry him that he did not know what his gift was. Did he even have a gift? How would he know if he did? It was a question that came to him more often now and began to creep into his dreamtime.



Finally he thought he would go speak with the pejuta wicasa – surely he will know how she can find out what his gift was, for he is truly wise and kind.

The next day, in the hour of ojahjah, he went out of the tipi and to the other side of the camp where he smelled the azilya long before seeing the fires glow through the canvas of the pejuta wicasa’s tipi.

“Híŋhaŋni wašté!” he called as he approached. He waited for the return call from inside the tent “Aho! Híŋhaŋni wašté!” he heard and when the door was lifted, and he was invited in, he stepped inside to warm himself by the fire.

“I am happy to see you well, Kola!” the old man said and offered some warm broth. He smiled and took the wooden bowl from him and as he sipped the broth as he considered the question in his heart.

“Leksi,” he began, “I am grateful for your good health and have brought you an obghi for your help.”

The medicine man watched as the young man brought out a small twist of sacred tobacco but he did not accept it right away, not until he knew the young mans intention.

The young man placed the tobacco in his lap and began to explain how he could feel spirit drawing in him, a desire to understand what his gifts are that he has been given. And after a while the wise man smiled and poked the fire with a stick as he chose his words carefully.

“I have seen this before,” he said with a grin “in young men and women too about your age. Even older ones who are trying to find what it is that tonkashila has gifted them with.” He watched as the young man sat up eagerly.

He settled back and stared at the fire for a moment and listened to the birds outside as the sun began to break the horizon. “Gifts come in many forms,” he said finally “and its not always easy to tell what they are but we must always remember that all things are revealed to us when it is time.” He stood up and held his hand out to the young man, who also stood and then placed the tobacco in the palm of the medicine man, clasping their hands together in a firm but gentle shake of agreement.

The medicine man told him. “Make your prayer ties with your intentions and then put them in the tall cottonwood tree outside the north gate of our camp. Ask tonkosila if it is according to His will and in His time that He will show you what special gift you have been given. And remember that in this time, you must be observing everything around you that you can be aware of all things as they are connected to your prayers and your intentions.

With this the young man thanked the medicine man and he left the tipi with excitement in his step.

He made his prayer ties that same day and, after he hung them in the cottonwood tree, he filled his canupa and left it on his alter, unsmoked, while he went out on his first day of exploring.

The camp was busy with men who were preparing for a hunt that would be coming soon so that meat could be prepared and stored for the community. He walked past some of the men and admired how they sharpened knives skillfully and restrung bows. On the edge of the activity sat an old man whose brow was deeply furrowed with frustration – many broken fragments of stone scattered around him. The young man stopped and said “What is wrong?” And with an edge to his voice the old man said “I can’t see well enough to make proper arrow heads.” He picked up some shards around him and said “My eyes are old and my hands are unsteady and I’ve ruined all this beautiful obsidian. I guess I’m too old now to be of use.” The young man was suddenly struck with a thought that made him smile. “I will help you!” and he sat down beside the old man and began to carefully chisel out a fine arrow head for the old man and after several hours there lay three more. The old man was very grateful and thanked the young man for his kindness.

The young man went back to the medicine man, eager to tell him what had happened. “Leksi!” he called out “I have found my gift!” the medicine man turned to face him and narrowed his eyes. “Oh?” he said. And he listened as the young man told his story about helping the old man make some arrows. “Is this my gift?” Asked the young man anxiously “Am I to be the arrow head maker for the camp?” At this the old man smiled and sighed. “This is a good thing you have done, and indeed it is a great skill, but it is not true your gift.” He said. The smile left the young man’s lips at these words and the medicine man placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and said “t’unksa, I remember when you were born and I have watched you grow into a good and strong man. Be patient – you will know when your gift is revealed. Come see me again tomorrow.”

The next day the young man again went out to make prayers by the cottonwood tree and then set out for a walk down the road to explore. He was lost in his prayerful thoughts and it was long into the mid day before he realized he was on the far side of the mountain where an old grandmother lived. It had been a long time since he had seen her and so he walked down the path toward her small tipi. “Hello Unci!” he said to her as he walked to where she sat in the shade of a great cedar tree. “Hello takoja!” she said, happy to see him. As he spoke with her he noticed that her wood pile was very low. “Unci,” he said, “Where is your axe? I will chop some wood for you!” And she beamed with happiness as she showed him where there was an axe and a fallen tree that he could cut up for firewood. “I will cook you something to eat for your hard work, thank you takoja!”

It took the rest of the day before he was done with the task. But he felt good that he was able to help his elder like that and she had fed him well. He was sure that this was something to do with his gift that he was seeking so he was eager to return to the medicine man to tell him what had happened.

Once again inside the tipi, the young man recounted his experience with the medicine man who smiled with tenderness at the young man. “This is a very good thing you have done and it shows great compassion and that you are, indeed, allowing your heart to be led where tonkashila guides you.” Then he sighed and explained to the young man “I’m afraid this isn’t what your real gift is though, but you will know it when it comes to you. There are many different kinds of gifts, nephew, so be patient and come see me again tomorrow.”

On the third day now, the young man goes to the cottonwood tree and sits with his prayers before he set off to explore the day. And it was while he was at the river that he began to wonder if he would ever be shown his gift. “Maybe its not time yet.” he thought, finding a bit of comfort in the wisdom that the medicine man had shared with him. He reminded himself to be patient and to not have expectations on this day. He resolved to allow the day to unfold according to the will of the Creator and to be gentle with himself regardless of what might not transpire. For it was his teachings that he would not question or analyze what happens and just to surrender to trust that it is all as it should be and within the Creators plans.

From the river he went to dig wild turnips and skunk onions. He was well on his way to filling the pack on his side, when he heard someone shouting angrily from the direction of the road which lay above the hillside. He decided to check out what was going on up there and soon found a man not much older than himself shouting at a wagon which the wheel had fallen off its axel. The man was quite upset and his wife and two small children were sitting on the side of the road under a small scrub oak to seek shade from the late afternoon heat.

“Aho, ci’ye!” said the young man, “do you need some help?”

The man turned to see who was calling to him and he sighed heavily “I don’t know what can be done,” he said “this wheel has come off and the kids are tired and hungry.” The young man took off his pack and thought for a moment about the situation. Then he smiled broadly “I have a pack full of turnips!” He said and offered them to the woman and children. “Let me help you with the wheel, brother.” He said and together they lifted and worked until the wheel was back on the wagon.

“Wopila!” The man said and the children laughed and clapped when they were finally lifted to the wagon, their bellies full of turnips. The little girl gave the young man a small flower she had picked and he thanked her. “Toksa!” He shouted as they drove away and though his pack was empty, his heart was full with the happiness that he had been able to help this family in need.

And so, returning to the camp, he sat with the medicine man and told him about helping to fix the wagon wheel. He didn’t even ask this time if this was his gift because he could tell the answer just from the way the old man looked at him and smiled.

“T’unksa,” said the old man “there are many different kinds of gifts that are given to us. Each one of them have their purpose and all are very sacred.” He poked at the fire with a stick for a moment and then continued “We must always remember these gifts are not ours, but they are the work of our Creator through us. What is unseen supports what is seen. Like the deep roots of the cottonwood tree.”



The young man thanked the Medicine Man and went to his tipi very much deep in thought. And he slept very soundly under his robes.

In the ojahjah of the next day, he went to the cottonwood tree and lifted his canupa from the forked trunk and sat down to pray as the sun broke the eastern horizon.

He took a deep sigh and then closed his eyes for a moment, and felt the breeze of the morning sweep across his face like a soft whisper and he smiled.


After a while he stood up and placed his canupa back into the tree and, picking up his sack, he turned toward the forest and began to walk slowly and without purpose. His heart felt very light and he was content.


He realized he was in a part of the forest which was very dense with the branches of the lodge pole pines reaching high into the sky. The sunlight was dimmed and the air was cooler in this part of the woods. Slowing his pace a bit he breathed in the rich smells and sounds and he then he noticed the little tuft of feathers in the low growing junipers beneath the pines.

Drawing closer he saw the small bird that had fallen from its nest. The way it laid with its dark eyes looking up at him, he was deeply touched. It was obvious to him that its wing had been broken and he knelt beside the juniper bush. He watched quietly for a few moments, mesmerized by the smallness. The bird tilted its head to look this way and that at the young man. Slowly he smiled and then he reached his hands out, gently scooping up the bird and holding it tenderly.

He could feel the small beating of the birds heart, fluttering rapidly against his palms. He realized that the bird was frightened and so he spoke softly to it in a way to sooth its fears.

There was something about that little bird that, when he looked deep into its eyes, he felt all his troubles fade and his mind cleared. He began to see images in his mind of the spirit of this creature. How scared it was and yet how trusting it was in the palm of his hands. A wave of unconditional compassion swept over him and he was caught up in the love for this creature and then that feeling transcended beyond the bird to those people that he had helped in the past few days. The old man who needed the arrow heads; the grandma who now had firewood stacked for the winter; the young family with their wagon repaired and there were so many others that came to his mind.

A tear slowly fell across his cheek and then it began – in that small, still moment there in the woods. The bird suddenly felt very heavy and then it stood up in his palm, lifted its head and spread its wings out wide. There was a glow around him, very faint at first, but then grew brighter until it was nearly impossible to keep looking at this magnificent transformation. The bird now grew large and the light that shrouded it took on the image of a much bigger bird, a wombli – the great eagle and now lifted as it floated in the air in front of him – it wrapped its wings around him and he felt his heart swell until he experienced the sweet surrender of it all which transcended words.

The spirit wombli embraced the young man and he felt its warmth penetrate his soul. And in those moments he was void of anything that troubled him. He had no conscious thoughts, no earthly connection, nothing troubling him, no questions, no worries or cares. It was more than peace, it was an absence of anything and everything of earthly attachment. Then the light began to dim around him and he opened his eyes to see the spirit wombli part from him and it slowly receded into the trees, high up above him until it could no longer be seen yet the spiritual connection lingered with him.

Now he blinked, wiped the tears from his cheeks and drew in a deep breath. He let the experience wash over him and all the way back to the camp he felt he was in a daze.

The medicine man was sitting inside his tipi when the young man walked up. He narrowed his eyes and watched as the young man came inside to sit at the edge of the fire. There was something about the young man that had changed and the old man sat patiently, waiting for the young man to speak.

It was several moments before either of them moved – they watched the flames of the fire and felt its warmth which is good pajuta.

Finally the young man looked up and he smiled at the medicine man who then saw in his eyes what had not been there before and he smiled back and nodded slowly.

The young mans smile broadened and he spoke slowly. “So – why is it….” He began and the medicine man interrupted him. “Wrong question.” He said and he turned his gaze back to the fire. After a few minutes the young man thoughtfully began again “How come….” Again the Medicine man shook his head and said “Wrong question!” and he held his hands out to warm them over the fire which crackled in the darkness. The smell of cedar wafted around them and shadows danced against the canvas. Finally the young man tried again “Of all the people…” the medicine man held his hand up to him and said again “Wrong question!” And the young man slumped back into his seated position and stared at the fire, slightly frustrated.



Some moments later the medicine man gently explained. “We do not question what gifts we are given. We acknowledge them, we say thank you, and we gratefully receive. Hetcha Tu Welo!” He watched as the young man took in this information and then he laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and said to him. “Remember this always – not what happened, not why it happened, but that it did happen. And pieces that are important to you on your journey will be revealed to you when it is time.” The young man nodded in understanding.

“You see – there are many good deeds that you can do, many great works that you can accomplish. But unless they are done with love and compassion, with selflessness and without desire of recognition or reward, they are empty.” He told the young man. “The great spirit has given you the greatest gift of all – that of pure love which is now yours to give to others.”

Together they smoked the young man’s canupa and sat in the stillness of the tipi for there was no need for more words, there was nothing in their minds to ponder but their hearts were full and their spirits satisfied.

The young man went on to be the most humble, compassionate and trusted man of his tribe. He was honored as this for the rest of his lifetime. There are some that say the golden light of love that he received forever was reflected in his eyes until they no longer shined with life.

Lakota Words:

pejuta wicasa – Medicine Man
ojahjah – just at dawn when the sun breaks the horizon
azilya – smudge
Híŋhaŋni wašté – Good morning
Aho – hey
Kola - friend
Leksi – uncle
obghi – an offering
tonkashila – grandfather
canupa – pipe
t’unksa – nephew
Unci – grandmother
takoja – grandchild
ci’ye – brother
Wopila – expression of gratitude
Wombli - eagle
Toksha – see you soon/later
pejuta – medicine
Hetcha Tu Welo – it is what it is

Authors note: I use the words of Oglala Lakota as they have been taught to me in my hunka family of Pine Ridge, South Dakota, in a very simple and humble way. I do not profess to be an expert in this language, but I try to be as authentic as possible as I am forever evolving in the spoken word of Oglala people.

All photographs were taken by the author except for the second tipi which is used by permission.

______________________________________________________________________________

Two Brothers

Written for Gabriel and Gavin Afraid of Bear 2010

There was once a beautiful camp nestled in a deep valley of he sapa by the Cheyenne River. The band of Lakota who lived there was happy to be there for the summer for it was a place they felt safe and secure. The tall cottonwood trees stood proudly around the circumference, adorned with flags to honor the relatives of respective direction. Black in the west, red in the north, yellow in the east and white in the south. When the sun rose each morning, everyone would be standing by the river with arms stretched high to give thanks for the day.


The chief of the camp was old but he was so very wise and kind. Everyone was encouraged by his compassion and so there were very rarely any incidents among the people. He had a kindness about him that no one hesitated to seek his council and a keen eye for justice so that no one questioned his guidance.

It was a very warm day in the season of the brown berries when two brothers came to his tipi with a request.

"Grandfather," the older one called out, "We need ponies!"

The chief turned and smiled and sat down on the log by the cook fire. He could see the older boy stood with his shoulders back and proud - long hair flying and a anxious look in his eyes. Looking past him, the wise chief eyed the younger brother who was shorter and stood quietly in his brother's shadow, twisting a stick between his fingers.

"Well now," began the Chief, "why do you think you need ponies?"

The older brother waved his hand toward his brother "Because we are not children anymore!" he said with confidence. "We need ponies to hunt with and we are old enough to start providing for the camp and our family!"

The chief looked again at the two boys and after a few moments he rubbed his hands on his knees and said to them. "Ok. Then here is what you do." He stood up slowly and turned facing the north and nodded his head in that direction as he spoke. "Tomorrow morning before the yellow man in the east comes; you must walk to the cliffs and find a spot there to sit. If you are to have a pony, then one will be provided to you." Looking back at the two he saw confusion on the face of the older boy, but the younger one had a look of knowing about him that made the old man's heart grow warm.

"Alright," the oldest boy said, "we will be back tomorrow to show you what fine ponies Creator brings to us!" And with great excitement he took off running toward his family tipi to share the news with his father and mother. The younger brother, still standing by the Chief watched his brother for a moment and then turned to the Chief and humbly said "Thank you, Grandfather."

The old Chief smiled and nodded, and the boy left.

In the morning, the younger boy woke up first and, after getting dressed, he woke up his brother. Together they walked to the cliff sides.

"I'm going to get me a FINE pony!" said the oldest brother, "My pony will be the fastest of all in the camp, and we will hunt game and go on raiding parties together!" The younger brother smiled and kept walking.



At the cliff sides they climbed and decided they would sit a ways away from one another so there would be no confusion about what pony is meant for which brother. The rocks were steep to climb and they had to be careful in their footing for the tangle of vines that would be sure to snare a moccasin.

The cliffs were a great place to watch for the herd of wild mustangs that would come in at dawn to drink from the springs near the camp. They could see from where they sat the horse trails that marked the hillside and knew the horses would come from the east, then make their way north to the cliffs, up the trails and over to the grassy meadow where they would graze until the day grew hot. It was the normal route of the mustangs.

So there they sat the older brother on a boulder near a small current bush and his younger brother just around the bend but out of sight.

The boys could both see the earth warming on the horizon from their vantage points. It had been a hard walk from camp to this place they had been instructed to travel, and they were both tired. It was the custom when set out on such a quest to be fasting and to remain in prayer. This was not spoken by the Chief before they left, but the boys were each old enough to have this knowledge. Now, with their stomachs aching for a bite of food and their bodies stiff from sitting on the hard ground, each were left alone with their thoughts.

Yawning widely, the older brother decided it was a good time for a nap before the sun got too hot, so he laid down on the ground with his feet up on a rock and closed his eyes, enjoying the peaceful morning. Soon he was asleep.

Likewise, the youngest brother was tired and he longed to be back in the tipi under the buffalo robes and wondered if his mother found the wood he had chopped before he left and searched his mind for other chores he had not completed. He hoped that his cousin would remember to stop by the family tipi to check on things while he was gone. His mind was too restless to settle down and so he leaned against a tree and closed his eyes and began to breathe in the sweet air from mid-summer. Soon his thoughts became prayers.

" Tunkasila! Ate! Wakan Tanka! - please hear my prayers. If it pleases you for me to have a pony today then I would be very happy to accept this gift. Thank you! Wopila Tunkasila...." and so on went his prayers.

It was hours before the first sight of the wild mustangs appeared on the horizon. At first it appeared as a small cloud of dust that moved like a vapor trail across to the south west. Then, when the breeze shifted just right, the sound of hooves could be heard as they echoed against the canyon wall.

The older boy, still lying on the ground, turned his head to see the dust and then rose to his feet to see if he could get an idea of how close the mustangs were to the cliff wall. The gnawing of his stomach reminded him of the hours that had already passed and he grew impatient for the horses to arrive. Gritting his teeth he mumbled under his breath ".... finally!"



Meanwhile, on the other side of the cliff wall, the younger brother remained still in his place where he had remained in prayer. When he opened his eyes to see how close the herd was to his spot on the cliffside, he gauged that he still had a while before they would be coming up the paths to the upper pasture so he closed his eyes again and resumed his prayers, his heart beating a little faster now with excitement and anticipation.

It was a magnificent sight to behold, the mustangs with their manes flying, running fast to the side of the cliffs. They knew the path to the upper grazing ground well. It was full of sweet grasses and a pond that was a favorite of theirs and their ancestors before them. The alpha male of the herd skillfully led the others up the steep slope and then waited at the top until they were all together. He could sense they were not alone, but that they would not be in danger and so he turned and walked with the others toward the grazing ground.

The older brother was so full of energy from sitting all day that he was very eager to complete his quest. He began walking up the hill to where a small herd of about five mustangs stood. There, under the shade of a great elm tree he stood rather impatiently for a horse to come to him as the Chief had promised. He muttered under his breath "....come on pony... come ON!" his fists were clinched and his breath drew in sharply when a chestnut colored stallion began grazing at a slow pace toward him. The brothers’ heart began to race with excitement. This was a beautiful stallion, worthy of his possession he thought to himself and he smiled. The shanks of the mustang trembled slightly and finally the brother could no longer tolerate the wait and he rushed forward with a rope in his hand and skillfully lassoed the horse, pulling the rope tightly with both hands.

With the whites of his eyes shining, this chestnut stallion drew up on to his hind quarters and began to kick wildly. Still the brother, who had broken many wild horses for his camp, held tightly to the rope. "You are MINE! he shouted through clinched teeth. And the mustang laid his ears back to his head and jerked with all his might. The brother took the end of the rope and struck the horse on the side of the neck yelling "MY PONY!" and dug his heels into the ground in a fierce battle to keep from losing his grip. At this, the stallion drew up on his hind quarters once again and with one powerful thrust, he kicked the brother in the shoulder and knocked him backwards into the dirt. The boy now lay in the field gasping for breath as he watched the stallion run swiftly back to the pack. He was now angry, bruised and even more aware of how hungry he was as he picked himself up off the grass and walked back to the big elm tree and sat down. Wrapping his arms around his bent knees, he hid his head in defeat. Sulking under the trees, the grass hoppers jumped around him and he paid no attention to the ravens who seemed to mock him from the branches above.



The younger brother was startled from his prayers by a flock of wild turkeys that had appeared and he smiled. Turkeys were a sign of abundance and thanks giving so he was encouraged by the hens and proud tom that clucked and scratched across the path to the foot of the cliffside where he sat. He stood up and stretched and then walked up toward the pasture to see if the ponies had yet arrived to their grazing ground of sweet grasses and fresh water.

His heart sank just slightly when he did not see any sign of mustangs at the summit - so he chose a spot under a cottonwood tree and sat down again. And as he settled down with a deep sigh a pheasant was flushed from a small brush nearby and he turned to see a beautiful mare approaching slowly - all alone. She, a black and white mare, stopped for a moment with her ears pointed forward at the young man who admired her from where he sat quietly.

Her face was white but her body was the deepest of black which told him she was considered a ‘medicine paint’, a mustang of great beauty with her muscles gleaming in the mid-day sunshine. His heart leaped a bit when she, after pausing for a moment, she slowly came closer and then stopped just within a few yards of where he sat.

"Well hello there beautiful sukawakan..." he said softly. In his heart he could hear the reply of her spirit greeting him. "hello" she said. He smiled but did not move. "Thank you for coming to visit with me today." he said to her and clicked his tongue the way he would to his father’s ponies in camp. "Why are you here?" she asked and dipped her head down to the ground to sniff for sweet grasses. "I have come to say prayers for a pony. My grandfather sent me to this spot to see if today is the day for me to receive such a great honor." the mare raised her head slowly and considered his words for a moment then spoke again with an edge of caution. "What do you want a pony for young man?" He smiled and shifted his back against the tree a bit then responded softly. "I am of age now to ride with my family to help provide for our camp." When she didn't respond he went on to explain "It would be very good for me to have a pony of my own that I could hunt..." before he could continue she stepped back and her eyes widened "HUNT?" she said and she twitched nervously "You mean to KILL?" his smile faded and his heart softened at her concern. "No creature I would hunt would be taken, but rather received with great humbleness so that my family could survive the cold winters and grow strong with the offering of food for we are pitiful creatures that depend upon these things for sustenance."

She relaxed a bit and then chewed thoughtfully before she spoke to him again. "Well what else would you do with a pony?" she asked. He smiled again and reached slowly in his pocket for the apple he had brought with him and he stretched out his arm to lay it on the ground near him. The smell of the ripe fruit wafted toward her and she inched toward him, so close now that he could feel her breath on his arm. "I would be so honored to have a pony that I would take very good care of her." he told her "I would brush her coat and take very good care of her. She would be fed well and we would be best friends!" with the sweet apple in her mouth she replied "Would you feed her apples every day?" he laughed "Not every day, for she needs grasses and fresh water as well." After she finished the apple she stepped closer still and she sniffed his hair and about his shoulders.

"What is a friend?" she asked. "A friend is someone that cares very much for you no matter what. They never let anyone harm you and they love you exactly as you are with gentleness and acceptance." he said. "And what if the friend does something you don't like?" she asked, "What would you do? Would you beat them? Would you shame them?" (for she had heard such stories from ponies in her herd who had escaped such treatments at the hands of humans.) "Oh no!" he replied quite sincerely. "A true friend would never do such a thing!" he explained "A true friend understands that you are on your personal journey for which he is your companion and accepts you for who you are so that you might do the same thing for them when they struggle as well." She could feel the spirit of this young man so full of compassion and love that she was quite comfortable now with him, for she knew he was speaking from his heart.

"Would you like to come with me, sukawakan?" he asked. She turned to see if there were any of her brothers and sisters nearby for her heart was now torn between the herd and the idea of living her life with a two legged friend. He stood up slowly and she examined him more closely. His hands were gentle and his shoulders strong and then she saw the light inside his heart that was of such good intention and she was not afraid. She nudged his side gently, sniffing for more apples and he softly laughed for her nose tickled his skin. "I think I would." She said finally. And he smiled and she let him stroke her softly on the side of her neck. "Would it be ok with you, if I put this around your neck?" the young man asked and he pointed at the ground to the short piece of rope that he had brought with him. She watched as he slowly picked it up and sniffed at it when he held it closer for her to see. "Why?" she asked. "Just to keep us close as we walk back to camp." he explained. She nodded her head and he slid the rope over her ears but kept it loose and said "Pilamaya yelo sukawakan!" he said to her and they began their journey back to the camp together.

He was telling her what the camp would be like when they got there and about the other ponies that she would share a corral with when suddenly the older brother appeared in front of them. Sukawakan was startled and she drew back sharply, for she could smell this boy was different. He had a wild look in his eye of something she had seen in humans before that frightened her. Her friend gently tugged on the rope and spoke softly to her to calm her.

"Hello brother!" he said "Where is your pony?" The oldest boy took this as an insult instead of the innocent question it was intended. He glared at his younger brother and then back to this beautiful mare and he thrust his hand forward and roughly grabbed the rope from his hand. "THIS," he shouted "is my pony!" he shouted. And the mare, the whites of her eyes showing in great fear, pushed back against the rope in his hands.

The younger brother quickly stepped in between his brother and the mare and set his jaw firmly as he put his hands over the top of the rope to give slack to the mustang. The mare stopped pulling and watched as the brothers locked eyes with one another for a tense moment. "No, brother!" said the younger to his elder "This pony is my friend, it is I she has chosen and you cannot take her from me. She has given herself freely to me and you will leave her alone!"

At first the older brother was flushed with anger and his fists were ready to strike his brother for these words. But he could see that the look in his brothers eyes that which he had rarely witnessed that told him that this was not a battle that he would win. Now he felt shame for his outburst and his pride was greatly bruised so he dropped the rope and turned sharply and walked away with great strides into the trees.

The younger brother turned back to the mare and his eyes filled with tears to see her fear. He spoke softly to her and stroked her neck. "I'm so sorry for my brothers action." he said to her and he took the rope off of her neck. "If you want to go back to your family now I understand."

She considered this with all her heart and it was a great temptation. But seeing how sorry he felt, and knowing he had not allowed any harm to come to her she stood where she was and placed her soft nuzzle against his cheek. "Would you like to ride on my back to the camp?" she asked. He looked up at her with such joy and surprise and nodded, unable to speak.

The mare stood still and allowed him on her back and, grabbing a tuft of mane they rode on to camp together.

When they arrived at the camp they saw the chief standing by his tipi. He was smiling broadly as the young man approached. When the younger brother dismounted the mustang, the chief put his hand on his shoulder and nodded with approval.

That night, after getting his new friend settled in the coral, there was an inipi and prayers of gratitude in honor of the young man who had crossed an important threshold in his life journey. The older brother was there to help celebrate and it was unheard of that any shame would be brought to the brother who did not receive a pony that day, but to also celebrate that he too learned an important life lesson from his experience.

In the purification lodge, the chief and grandfather spoke gently to all who were there saying that these were good lessons the two boys brought back with them. "For even though two people can be on the same path in life, they will each have their unique experience relative to where they are on their spiritual journey. The lessons are relative to that person and where they are spiritually at that time. And so there is nothing 'good' or 'bad' that is to be taken from what these two boys have experienced. Hecha tu welo! And we thank them for their willingness to share with us all so that we may also learn and grow in our relationship with our creator. We must remember to receive the story of these boys in our hearts not as a reflection of them and how they responded to their physical and emotional challenges, but how WE respond to their testimony. What did it stir within your heart? Where did we struggle and were tempted to judge? Will you choose to work on their lessons, or will you instead work on your own?" He paused a moment and sprinkled just a bit of lavender on the inyan and said to them gently “We are all precious to tunkasila – every one of us, just the way we are.

Mitakuye Oyasin

It was a grand feast afterwards, a wopila, with lots of food, drumming and song around a great camp fire that burned well into the night. Everyone slept soundly under warm robes with hearts full of gratitude.

Many years later the Chief crossed over and his bonnet was passed on to the one that Creator revealed to the wise grandfather who would carry the next generations of the camp according to the Creators plan in a good, wise and humble way.

Now the new chief sat on his pony, a beautiful black horse with solid white face, which was given a red hand print of earth paint on her rear hind quarters. In the dawn of this new day he walked her quietly over to the edge of the Cheyenne River and waited for the yellow man in the sky to come. And as the glow grew in the horizon to a bright ball of warmth, he raised his hands along with the others by the banks of the Cheyenne River to say his morning prayers of gratitude.

Mitakuye Oyasin

Lakota Words:

ate (ah-day) father
He sapa – black hills
Hecha tu welo – that is true (fact)
Inipi – sweat lodge
inyan (ee-yahn) stone
Unci (oohn chee) grandmother
Mitakuye Oyasin – all my relations
Pilamaya yelo - thank you (as spoken by male)
sukawakan- horse
tunkasila (duen-kah-shee-lah) god
Wakan Tanka (wah-kahn dahn-kah) Great Mystery Spirit
Wopila – a broad statement of thanks (and in reference to a feast means prepared for thanks giving or a ‘giveaway’

Author's footnote: Many thanks to Alvis Upitis for his beautiful picture of the medicine paint that he provided for this story. His web site of photography can be found at this link. Many blessings always! All other photographs were taken by the author at Wild Horse Sanctuary in Hot Springs, South Dakota.