Gaia Community: LittleDove's Blog

The last great Indian War Chiefs

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 21:34:27 GMT

Everyone knows the last great Indian War Chiefs lived and died in the 19th century and given modern times, there will likely be no more forever. Then came Chief Grey Eagle, a warrior who came from another time and place! Yet he was also a powerful warrior and leader in the here and now. Chief Grey Eagle has had emblazoned upon his heart, mind and soul, the spirit of the Great War Chiefs of a long ago time. He would use his awesome leadership and commanding presence to mold the modern day Indian Nations and make of them a force with which to be reckoned. Join with us now as we travel to that time and place and meet Chief Grey Eagle, last of the Great Lakota Sioux War Chiefs.

There are those who believe the age of the Indian Warrior is long past - relegated to history. But the age of the mounted warrior riding across plains has yet another date with destiny. We travel to the Lakota Sioux Reservation, where a man-child has been born. Tradition says he was born of the bloodline of the greatest of the Lakota War Chiefs, and their spirit dwells within him. It is said of this man-child that he shall stand in two worlds, with feet of iron. This unique prophecy has come to complete fulfillment, howbeit in a most unlikely manner.

He was known by his people as Grey Eagle, a name that was derived from the color of his eyes. While his lineage was that of full blood Lakota Sioux, his eyes somehow had turned out solid gray. His family lives among a spread of trees atop a high ridge, overlooking a large valley below, with mountains in the distance. The hawk and the eagle fly overhead and the young boy grew into manhood, amazed at their power. Young Grey Eagle was like all boys his age, but often he would break away from the group and walk alone. Sometimes his mother gazing off into the distance would find him, as if in a trance. His only response was, I shall be like unto them, for I am Grey Eagle!

A mother’s love understood that in some way her son was special. Even as a boy she knew, her son had the eyes of a warrior and a leader of men and she knew that someday her son would come to fulfill his destiny. His natural abilities seemed to be greater and stronger than other boys his age. He could see and hear with greater intensity, and his alertness was above those of his peers. It was his mother who gave him the name 'Grey Eagle' because she said; "he has the eyes of an eagle." While young Grey Eagle's father worked long hours and worked hard to provide the necessities of life. His mother often took time to walk and talk with her son, as they would stroll among the trees and high places. Here, said Grey Eagle, "I can hear the wind talk to me.”

As Grey Eagle grew into his teen years, he gained a great interest in the history of his people, and the great warrior leaders of the past. He also studied the ancient art of war, the bow and the lance. Soon the growing boy became an expert and was known among his people as the greatest among the young warriors. Grey Eagle undoubtedly has the power of enormous commanding presence, is what they said of him. The other boys never made fun of him or picked on him, for he seemed to literally dominate the situation, howbeit in the manor befitting the early prophesies spoken of him while still a child. Still regardless of his growing influence he was kind and mannerly. When Grey Eagle turned 16 years of age, he attended a great pow-wow, a celebration of their tribal heritage and culture. The costumes and artifacts of his people were everywhere. But Grey Eagle's choice was to make every item according to the ancient ways of his people, and his
work was most impressive.

It was on this particular occasion that Grey Eagle's life would completely change course. He had stopped along the way for refreshment when he met a soldier in uniform. The soldier was an Army Major, a war veteran, and a member of the elite Special Forces. Many medals of valor covered his chest, and Grey Eagle thought to himself; here is a true warrior. He excused himself while asking to speak to the soldier, who was sitting alone. Afterward Grey Eagle made his decision; even at the age of 16 he had become an expert in the ancient Indian art of war. Now he must learn the way of the modern warrior. Grey Eagle was only 17 and 6 months when he graduated from High School, afterward he attended the Indian Junior College not far from his home.

Grey Eagle was still six months away from his 21st birthday when he walked into the Army Recruiting Office and sought to join. "I want to be in the Special Forces," he said! The Sergeant explained the process to him, that he would attend boot camp, then afterward if he were among the few qualified, he would be assigned to Special Forces Training. The young Indian Brave took the opportunity and greatly excelled as he went through boot camp: Time passed and he found himself wearing the insignia of the Special Forces. He then sought to attend Officer Training School and gain his commission, which happened just as he had hoped.

The years past and Grey Eagle was eventually promoted to the rank of captain when war broke out in the Middle East. Grey Eagle was ready, and he knew it. Since many years before when he was a boy back on the reservation, he knew this moment would come and he was eager for the challenge. He would prove himself and earn the title Lakota Sioux Warrior, the greatest among his people. The enemy paid dearly for waging a war, which involved Grey Eagle. Thousands of the enemy died at the hands of Grey Eagle, and even more of our own troops were spared from certain death. He return to the States in due course of time with his Chest covered with more medals of valor than were possessed by the Army Major that had impressed him so very much when he was only 16 years of age.

During his tour of duty in the army, he had become a small arms weapons and tactical expert. He also became an expert at turning the enemy technology against them and he could even fool our own night scopes and heat detectors. Some of those who fought with him even boasted that he could turn invisible. Grey Eagle had done well in the Army Special Forces, and became the youngest Major in Army Special Forces history. Still, he knew this was but a prelude to what destiny had in store for him. Something more waited for him, and he intended on finding out the answer to life's question: "Why am I here?”

When Grey Eagle returned home, he was welcome by his tribe as a returning hero; throngs greeted him. His people were mesmerized by his presence and couldn't seem to get enough of him. Whispers began to circulate, likening him to Crazy Horse and the other Great War Chiefs of the past. It was at this time, that a delegation came knocking on his door, proposing that he seek to become a representative on the inter-tribal Council of the Indian Confederation. Tribal representatives regularly came pleading with him to take a leadership position on the council. Grey Eagle did not say no, but first indicated he must be alone and consider the matter.

It was then, that Grey Eagle returned to the old familiar pathways of his youth. He spent his time in the woods and high places where he had spent so much time during years gone by in meditation. It was at that time night and the moon was full, the wind whispered among the leaves, and he once again could hear, as it were, a calling and a beckoning. It was at this time that he later claimed he saw a spirit come to him. The image of a Great Warrior Chief, and it said to him: "Grey Eagle - put on the robes of your forefathers, those of a War Chief and lead the Indian Nations.

The time has now come, and you are completely ready; the spirit of all the Great Warrior Chiefs will be with you. Your eyes shall be their eyes, and their wisdom shall be your wisdom. You shall become the greatest among the Great Warrior Chiefs of all time. An Indian leader like unto you Grey Eagle has never arisen before, nor shall it be so again hereafter." The Great War Chief reached out his arms and handed Grey Eagle a bundle, wrapped in ancient buffalo hide, and tied with ceremonial cords. "Show no man its contents until you stand before the Indian Nations wearing what is therein. This shall be a sign unto you!" Then a great ‘war lance’ appeared in the spirits hand and he heaved it, so it stuck in the ground immediately before Grey Eagle. "When this lance is no more, your leadership will have ended, and you will depart in peace for it is the symbol of your power and authority.”

The spirit of the Great Warrior Chief disappeared, and Grey Eagle was again standing alone. While he stood looking upon the lance he then knew assuredly that what he had seen was not merely his imagination, but the truth. As he pondered where his life had brought him and what was in store for him, he felt a nudge at his back. Then a second nudge, even harder! As Grey Eagle turned, there stood before him a great white stallion, saddled with an Indian warrior's blanket. Again, he had to know for sure if this horse was intended for him or merely a coincident! So he mounted the beast and at that very moment and thereby he knew. Grey Eagle then took hold of the lance, and holding it high in the air, he began to speak aloud as if speaking to the wind: "I am Grey Eagle, last of the Great Lakota War Chiefs. Now I have earned the title - warrior! I shall restore the greatness of the Indian Nations!”

Grey Eagle kept his plans quiet in his heart for a while, indicating only that he desired a meeting of the inter-tribal confederation, to be accompanied by as many of the Indian Peoples as could travel to the appointed location. But Grey Eagle was not idle, for he had gained permission from the Park Service to hold the meeting at none other place than the Little Big Horn Battlefield. There must have been several hundred thousand people present that day, both standing and seated upon the ground on the low sloping section of the battlefield. There was a gathering of tribal leaders from many of the Indian Nations at the top of the hill, Sioux, Blackfoot, Apache and Cherokee, just to name a few.

Everyone waited, and the crowd was so large, even the park service expressed concerns. But Grey Eagle, their hero, had called the meeting, the day was beautiful, and a cool breeze blew across the Black Hills. When the time finally came for him to make his appearance, he was seen riding over the ridge, as if descending out of a misty cloud. Grey Eagle - Indian War Chief and now Chief of all the Indian Nations! It was obvious to everyone who had gathered together that day, he was not robed in a modern replica or look-alike costume, but in the real and legitimate robes of a powerful Lakota Sioux War Chief. He held the warrior's lance in his right hand, held high and proud, as he rode upward toward the top of the ridge. Pausing before the assembled tribal leaders, he threw down the lance given to him by the Great Indian Warrior Spirit, so that it stuck in the ground before them; "Here is my answer," he said. "I am Grey Eagle, Chief of all the
Indian Nations and last of the great Lakota War Chiefs.”

This day the Indian Nations are restored to their ancient ways, and will be taught and governed by Chief Grey Eagle, who shall unite all the tribes of the Indian Nations, and restore their honor. "You shall speak these words to all the Indian Peoples! Let any man who thinks otherwise step forward and defend his claim according to our ancient customs." About then, a uniformed Park Ranger stepped forward, as if to take some kind of action. A Blackfoot Indian Warrior held out his arm to stop him: "I wouldn't do anything, if I were you." The Park Ranger quietly and without comment, stepped back into his place. The deed was done and history would record this moment as the time of honor and renewal of all the Indian Peoples.

Never had any man spoken such words of power, not since the days when the Lakota Sioux were as the blades of grass that spread across the Black Hills. Never had any among our people heard such words, and given them with such authority. About that time an elderly Indian lady, well past 80 years of age, walked slowly up the ridge and stood before Chief Grey Eagle, looking up at him with tears streaming down her face. "I have waited for you Chief Grey Eagle, since the days of my youth, when they laughed at me saying; the great days are over. But you are here and now, it is time for me to depart in peace, for my life is fulfilled." The elderly lady slumped to the ground and died, there before Chief Grey Eagle, with a smile upon her face! Thus was born the last of the Great Indian War Chiefs, and greatest among the Lakota Sioux. And a leader of all the Indian Nations! The years of servitude and domination by the 'White Eyes' have come to an
end!

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Listen to the Elders

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 18:19:59 GMT

We need to listen to our Elders before it is too late
Silence is the lie of the good man or the coward.
It is seeing something you don't like and not speaking.

They say that perhaps it is not by love, but by blood, that land is bought.
They say that perhaps my people had to die to nourish this earth with their truth.
Your people did not have ears to hear.

Perhaps we had to return to the earth so that we could grow within your hearts.
Perhaps we have come back and will fill the hills and valleys with our song.

My people have done well.
You have tried to take everything away from us, but we have survived.
We have lived with you pushing against us for five hundred years.
We will live with you pushing against us for five hundred more.

There are spirits to help you. There are spirits to help us all. If only your people would learn to listen to them, to go into the sunlight and give thanks for the day, they would find them. Then they would not be so quick to do harm, or so able to rest at night when they spent the day working only for themselves.

The earth is deep, and its knowledge is great. Listen to the stones, and listen to the wind. Do what you must do to find the voices that will speak to you. They are there. They are calling. Do what you must do to find them, and share their words.

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Do you believe in guides or angels?

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 15:13:17 GMT

The tenderest moments with Spirit will begin as soon as we come into the light of our own souls because this is where we will find our deepest passion, our most comfort, and the greatest love of our heart. When we listen, the angels teach us about knowledge and ignorance and what seperates them... they teach us about the dance of life and the stillness of Being... they teach us about the end of all journeys and the beginning of one true journey.

Angels and guides have always been with us since the beginning of time, in every time and in every culture. Many people from all walks of life have received messeges of every kind from various sources. There have been those people who have had angelic visitations or have been visited by their spirit guides or loved ones. The true role of our Guides and Angels is to help us grow and transform those parts of ourselves that need healing. They see things from a totally different perspective than we do. While we judge something as being "good" or "bad", ore Guides and Angels discern things in terms of precious golden opportunities for us to heal aspects of our anger, fear, and pain, and transform it into something positive. They highlight the growth opportunities in our lives. We each have our own Guides and Angels that have been assigned to us, and they have their own unique skills and/or roles that contribute to their guardianship of us. When our Guides and Angels have messages for us they have numerous ways of getting their messages across. My Guides and Angels have played a very active roll in my life since I was about 3 yrs old. They have been with me and helped me survive many traumatic events as well as to celebrate the happy times. When they have a message to convey,their voices come to me very clearly on the gentle winds. There are times when they will send a hawk or eagle to inform me that I must pay attention to the world around me and that a message is forthcoming. They also show me signs and many other symbols such as a rainbow in the night sky or a starburst of doves. A message can also be music that I hear ... even when there is no music playing or in the fresh scent of flowers when there are no flowers around. I see things in signs and symbols according to how they have trained me over the course of my journey.
At times I will hear someone call my name, but yet, no one else is there but me. Or I feel a presence or perhaps a gentle touch or a loving hug when I need it the most. Yes indeed I do believe in Spirit guides and Angels.

Sharon Littledove (c) 2009

Tags: Q&R, guides, angels, wisdom

PLEASE HELP SAVE THE SACRED WHITE BUFFALO

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Sat, 15 Aug 2009 06:43:52 GMT

Urgent Request... Please Help save the sacred White Buffalo and the Black Buffalo . A very sad day is coming, The Woodland Zoo in Farmington PA is about to be sold and the Buffalo will be either sold or auctioned off ...
TO HELP PLEASE GO TO www.originalwisdom.com

At the small Woodland Zoo in Farmington, PA, on November 12, 2006, a prophecy was born, a living piece of a legend central to many Native spiritualities. It took the form of a buffalo calf that emerged into the world completely white, a one-in-ten-million occurrence that becomes even more miraculous when considering the scarcity of buffalo today. The Woodland Zoo, like the several other places where white, non-albino buffalo have been born in recent years, became a site of pilgrimage for throngs of visitors. The white buffalo calf holds enormous sacredness to many Native American tribes, but many of us who are not from Native cultures have felt drawn into its aura as well. We go to look, to wonder, to pay respect, to find out if it just might have a message for us-and perhaps to marvel that the very animal our society has taken such great lengths to conquer has brought forth a message with the power to save our society from itself. In Lakota spirituality, our survival as a people depends on believing in and heeding the white buffalo's sacred message, which urges us to live the understanding that all living beings are linked and interdependent.

"It has come to speak to you...and it's telling you something here...you have to listen," says Lakota Sundance chief and medicine man David Swallow, Jr. "It's not an Indian thing; it's for humanity." On April 14, 2007, Swallow spoke to a crowd of people at the Woodland Zoo, a surprisingly large crowd considering the out-of-the-way location and the cold, persistent rain. Many of us seemed to sense the urgency of Swallow's message. He spoke of how the white buffalo has long been sacred to the Lakota and other Plains tribes such as the Kiowa, Apache, Cheyenne, Hadatsa, Pawnee, and other Siouxan tribes, whose existence depended on the herds of buffalo that darkened the land before the days of the transcontinental railroad. A white buffalo carries a message to the people to whom it appears, warning them that hard times, such as an epidemic of disease, will be arriving unless the people examine the way they've been living and learn to live in a way that is better for all.

In a sense, Swallow lives a life parallel to that of the white buffalo. Like the buffalo, his people have been forced onto reservations by a culture attempting to subjugate them. Acknowledging the similarity of their positions, Swallow states, "They don't want us to go hunting, or go around in our own land...same thing with the white buffalo....That's called captive." Like the white buffalo, which is believed to have come willingly to the particular place where it was born, Swallow also has dedicated himself to spreading the message that we must dramatically change our ways, and soon, throughout America.
When the white buffalo appears to the Lakota, says Swallow, a young man will kill it with a bow and arrow, and then he distributes the meat to everyone-"to the handicapped, the sick, or the old people," he emphasizes. Within four days the hide is cured and tanned, and the holy man writes sacred symbols on it. Then, Swallow continues, the chief and holy man of the tribe would take the hide to the Black Hills as an offering to the Great Spirit so hard times would pass over the people. "But today, we cannot do it," he says. "That's why the Thunder People, the Thunder Nation, has took the other white buffalo; lightening striked and killed it," he says of the white buffalo Miracle's Second Chance in Janesville, Wisconsin.

Anticipating the Westerner's perception of the white buffalo ceremony, Swallow explains, "I think the English word ‘sacrifice' is wrong...it's about giving. You give it." Just as the white buffalo gives herself to the people, he says, a medicine man "must give it to the people, so the people will be receiving life." When white buffalo appear, Swallow says, they come willingly, and "they know what to do." The belief that the white buffalo has given its life willingly fosters an intense bond between the Lakota and the buffalo.

The tribes of the Great Plains have traditionally shared a profound bond with all of the buffalo they depended on for survival. Like their relationship with the rest of the Earth, this relationship merges what Westerners think of as separate "physical" and "spiritual" worlds into one. The English language affords us no adequate way to describe this holistic way of life; we can only strive to intuit such a way of being in the world. Buffalo were central to the lives of the Great Plains tribes, used for food, clothing, tools, and other purposes. Hunting, to these cultures, is never mere sport; it is done out of necessity and with the utmost respect and gratitude. "Hunting is a spiritual thing," says Swallow. "You never go hunting and just mount the head on the wall...you use every part of it." He adds that the Lakota have always held a ceremony the night before a hunt, "because nothing belongs to us; it all belongs to the Great Spirit...through ceremony, we must ask permission from this four-legged."

The white buffalo calf, named Kenahkihinén (Kĕ-Nah‛-Ki-Nĕn), which means "Watch Over Us" in the Lenape language, is believed to have already accepted this role and to have chosen the place where its message was needed most. As Swallow points out, it was born in a public place, a place that many non-Native people frequent. It chose the people to whom it should appear, he says. Earlier, it had begun appearing to the Lakota as a sign that the indigenous peoples needed to unite and to stand up for their common values. "It doesn't come to us no more," Swallow notes. "It comes to the farmer, to the rancher," and to public places such as the Woodland Zoo. As Lakota speaker Gary Christensen added after Swallow's talk, "In a short time, so many of these sacred animals have come to visit and bring a message," bringing the prophecy to parts of American society that may not have had exposure to such beliefs. Before 1993 no white buffalo had been born for sixty years, while more than ten white buffalo have been born since 1993, bringing their message to various regions of the country.

The story of the white buffalo's message, Swallow says, is for all of us. Lakota beliefs have remained strong despite many years of oppression, and now the Lakota are sharing their ways with other tribes, such as some eastern woodlands tribes, that may have lost some of their own ways-and with others who are willing to listen. "All the tribes now are believing...we invited them to learn our ways," says Swallow. The act of sharing sacred stories between cultures is a profound gesture of friendship that we too should accept, and learn from, with gratitude.

In his talk, Swallow also shared the story of the White Buffalo Calf Woman, which has immense importance to the Lakota and many other tribes. In this story, a woman comes to the Lakota from the spirit world, bringing them their sacred pipe and the ceremony in which they use it as well as knowledge about how to live. She promised she would return in time of need, and upon leaving, she transformed into a buffalo, changing colors several times (like some white buffalo do as they age), finally becoming white. As Lakota medicine man John Lame Deer says in a version of this story, "A white buffalo is the most sacred living thing you could ever encounter." The changing colors have significance too, says Swallow, which must be interpreted by a holy man.

The telling of a story from one culture to another is complex; without living in the culture, we miss much of the story's significance. However, it can still have meaning for us if we take the time to learn about the philosophy of the culture from which it came, perhaps meditating or reflecting on its place in our own lives. By taking a deeper look at a story shared from another culture, we can allow it to develop our personal philosophy, and even those of us who already strive to live in a holistic way may find still greater ways for personal growth.

To change our world, we must change our cultural philosophies on living, and it is crucial that we continue to examine the way we interact with our world so we can more closely follow the buffalo's message. Swallow offers further advice on the ways we should enact change: "Clean the air, the rivers. Make less laws. That's the beginning. Everything that's natural, all over the world, has a spirit, and they want to live. And they're happy when they're used in the right way." We should never kill other creatures needlessly, he continues. "In your language they call it murder, even though it's a monkey, even though it's a snake. Have respect for nature. Learn from indigenous cultures...they have valuable information. Very soon, we're [all] going to need it." And of course, we in this region should spread this message to others and live as examples of it, living as equals with the other forms of life that share our world. After all, the white buffalo chose us to share its message with our society.

Being aware of the white buffalo's message is not enough-we must live it everyday. We should live under the philosophy, says Swallow, that our fellow animals do not belong to us; that we should use other animals only as necessary, and with the greatest respect and appreciation. We use other animals in our daily lives, so this message certainly gives us much to consider. By educating ourselves about whether we might be using products from companies that test on animals, and by knowing how all of the products we buy affect humans and other animals as well as the environment, we can live in a more spiritual way. Native cultures have always integrated spirituality into every aspect of life; they live the philosophies they believe in, and so can the rest of us. Often our circumstances make this difficult; we may have to remind ourselves to feel respect and gratitude toward the animals we consume, for instance, because we usually do not see them while they are alive. By seeing them as more than slabs of meat, and by allowing them a more respectful death, we might improve our own spiritual wellness. "When the white man begins to play the role of God," as Swallow says, "he destroys the spirit of those he's raised." Chief Arvol Looking Horse raises this point in White Buffalo Teachings, saying, "I remember the Elders spoke of the danger in the construction of dams stopping the natural flow of rivers, which we understand as Mother Earth's arteries." Looking Horse is the 19th Generation Keeper of the White Buffalo Calf Woman Pipe, and he has been outspoken about the message of the several recent white buffalo.

Swallow asserts that we should question our leaders when they are not following such a philosophy, and should demand that our government make wiser choices. A leader shouldn't own everything, he says. A leader should care for the people, and honor what belongs to them. "This whole Turtle Island America needs to wake up," he states. "They really need to wake up and put their feet down, because America's voice is the authority, and their needs [are] the power...."

John Tarnesse, a Sundance Chief of the Eastern Shoshone tribe, says of the buffalo, "They were holistic in their migrations. They made everything become greener where they passed. When they walked the earth, it was like they plowed the earth and then fertilized it." How beautiful our world would be if we learned to walk as the buffalo do-and perhaps we will know we've succeeded if we once again see them roaming free, because in more ways than one, the buffalo have always been the measure of our society's spiritual health.

As Chief Arvol Looking Horse says, "Our Prophecies tell us that we are at the Crossroads. We face chaos, disaster, and endless tears from our relatives' eyes-or we can unite spiritually in peace and harmony. It's time to bring the Message of the urgent need for Peace, of creating an energy shift throughout the world." The white buffalo is a warning, agrees David Swallow, but also a chance. Together, we should focus our energy on the peaceful, healthy, harmonious world that the buffalo is urging us to create. Looking Horse suggests we might congregate at our Sacred Sites, wherever they may be, to help in this energy shift. He emphasizes, "On your decision-yes, on your own personal decision-depends the fate of the World."

Sidebar: White Animals in Western Culture

In Western culture, we have often attributed a special significance to white animals also, but we do not usually talk about why. White animals, perhaps at least in part because of their rarity, have historically been something to kill or capture in Western culture, but in stories, poems, ballads, and legends from medieval times onward, they are often portrayed as phantoms, or as having a linkage to the spiritual realm (often in the form of deer). In a North Carolina legend, the ghost of Virginia Dare haunts the forests of Roanoke Island in the form of a white doe, and in later stories such as The Chronicles of Narnia and The Hobbit, white deer also appear. In the Western mind, white animals often seem to unite what we typically think of as separate physical and spiritual realms, embodying oneness of the physical and spiritual. Our perceptions of white animals seem to have historically inspired fear and uncertainty, as this "oneness" tends to make us uncomfortable. Perhaps we just revel in frightening ourselves, or perhaps something in us gravitates toward white animals for their sacredness even though our conscious minds are not prepared to accept it. In either case, they remain a notable part of our literature and folklore.
Melanie Martin

Tags: White Buffalo

The White Buffalo Speaks, A True Story (Posted with permission)

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 21:36:55 GMT

Woodland Zoo White Buffalo Calf

"The path is this way, through that door," the attendant at the Woodland Zoo pointed out.

As I walked out, a woman with golden hair was taking off her sandals and beginning the journey up the path as well, slowly, as if walking with Grace up a mountain, as the hills and trees formed a lush cocoon around her, with nothing to keep her soles from the Earth.

There seemed to be a connection between her and this place, as if the spirit of the forest was making way for the lace-white skirt and black-topped Presence, a relationship of respect, though it was hard to figure out why I felt that.

I noticed how she stopped at each of the animals and greeted them with a childlike innocence that the Himalayan bears and cockatoos responded to, putting on a show for her. It looked like their connection with her heart had for a moment set their hearts free from the cages they were imprisoned in.

She seemed to be in a solemn procession, I thought. The monkey, kangaroos, lemurs, animals from around the world stopped and made eye-contact.

It was late in the day, but for some reason there was no one there. A silence between her and our forest relatives, not to be disturbed, as the clouds formed thick and dark coming over the mountains close by.

Two teepees came into view in the open space between the wolves and the deer. One had beautiful markings of the buffalo on it, the other plain white, standing taller.

She had descended slowly, carefully, down the hill's path, unhurried, as if time did not exist. Crows in the trees seemed to beckon her on, forward, as if this world and the next were close together, as One in this moment.

A beautiful, white female elk was resting in her pen. She turned toward her and their eyes seemed to pierce each others. The expression on the woman's face made me wonder what she was hearing. The expression on the elk, so quiet and at peace, said ‘yes, yes' to her, but why?

Next to the white elk there were two pens with an opening between them. One had antelope in it, so prevalent in the West, and above the empty pen was the word ‘Buffalo.'

There was a slight look of dismay upon the woman's face, as if to say ‘where are they?' But there was no sign of life, just a shelter whose opening was pointing away from view.

Behind her were the teepees, and fastened to the fence were countless prayer-ties that Natives had left. This was the home of the Sacred White Buffalo, one of three that legend said would be born.

The sky was now starting to darken with an impending storm. The man she was with leaned over the fence and took out a cigarette, carefully unfolding the tobacco, as if saying a prayer as the Wind took the shredded leaves as offering to the Great Spirit, Mother Earth, and the Sacred White.

The woman took some tobacco and gently knelt down to give her offering, inside the wires that separated her from the space she wished to be a part of.

A calm came upon her, her head bowing, her white skirt dressing the soil around her. A few moments passed, a yearning emanating from her. With a second of searching within herself, she suddenly found what her heart needed. Gently she removed a beautiful stone bracelet from her wrist, something that obviously meant something to her, and she placed it inside the fence, as if magically connecting with all the prayer-ties slowly moving in the breeze.

She prayed to the Virgin Mary, the beads of the bracelet given to the Earth bonding the Sacred connection between woman and soil.

A few drops of rain began, and then a lightning bolt in the distance.

Suddenly the head of a black buffalo calf showed itself and began walking toward her. Then, following, the fully grown white buffalo emerge.

The black calf slowly approached the fence, within the silence, as if every bird, animal and tree had stopped to watch something sacred.

The calf stopped and bowed its head three times to the woman. The black buffalo calf, the color of the third calf transformation by the Legend that brought the Peace Pipe to the People, before vanishing into the herd 2000 years ago.

The calf's countenance was not rushed, but wanted the Moment known to her. His head bowed as he stood before her, as if he knew what he was doing, that this was the Moment, and he was the chosen child of the Buffalo to bestow an honor, an acknowledgment, a recognition, the buffalo representing all our relations of the Earth in that space without time.

Then he moved on, and the fully grown White Buffalo moved toward the woman. He too stopped, facing her, and with the same grace as the calf bowed his head three times to her, in slow, deliberate manner.

Her arm reached out, over the fence toward the legendary coat of white, standing so tall and powerful, as if just groomed by the Heavens, with his large black eyes of Eternity gazing upon her, into her, as her head tilted to rest on her outstretched arm, mimicking the movements of the buffalo's own.

He moved closer to his fence and began rubbing against a post, not roughly, but as if to say ‘if I could be nearer to you, let my affection for your heart brush together as One, gentle spirit of mine.'

The smile on her face was that of a child that lit up all the world around her, her beam of light becoming One with the gleaming White, two spirits joining, recognizing each other.

She had known deep suffering and loss in her life, but in that moment it seemed all so frivolous, as if its drapery just slid right off of her. She had borne so much, but her heart had remained pure and true to the Love that she knew was the essence and Truth of all Reality.

The White Buffalo, with his eyes not blinking, seemed to speak to her. ‘Yes, I know of your suffering, and I honor you.' As if her suffering was that of the whole Earth, all that was living within Her bosom. The woman had stood fast, despite everything, her heart never wavered, no matter the trials and tests. The white bison's Presence told her he recognized all that she had been through. And he honored her. And the silence of all Creation around her solemnly did the same.

The buffalo stayed in the Moment with her for the longest time, until she knew that he was there for her, to tell her something, that she already knew, but that she needed to hear, from the White Buffalo himself.

But it was between her and him, that Moment. The Words seemed to echo from him. ‘It is so, it is so.' She was Peace. Her Light beamed from her. Her Love became All.

The calf had come to bow to her. The White Buffalo was no longer a calf. The White Buffalo had grown, like the heart tested beyond what any normal person could stand, and now she had Become.

At the moment when the Sacred White moved slowly on, the Heavens opened and a shower of rain poured down upon her, as if the past was washed away, and all that remained was the purity of her heart, who She was, that nothing in life could soil, for Her Heart was Eternal.

Her eyes were sky blue. She was of the Earth as her spirit touched the Sacred White. The Sky opened up, and Heaven and Earth became One.

Legend says that three white buffalo would be born.

Lightning shimmered in the Sky.

The Great Spirit had Spoken.

Woodland Zoo Farmington Pa The Eyes
Gray Owl © 2009

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What do you want from beauty?

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 10:55:40 GMT

I want to live in it , above me, below me, and to all sides of me and I want to share it with others...

Tags: Q&R, beauty, beautiful

The Wooden Bowl

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 02:36:49 GMT

The Wooden Bowl

I guarantee you will remember the tale of the Wooden Bowl

tomorrow, a week from now, a month from now, a year from now.

A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year - old grandson.

The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered.

The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and

failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor.

When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.

The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess.
'We must do something about father,' said the son.

'I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor.'

So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner.

There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner.

Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl.

When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone.

Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.

The four-year-old watched it all in silence.

One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor.

He asked the child sweetly, 'What are you making?' Just as sweetly, the boy responded,

'Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up.
' The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.

The words so struck the parents so that they were speechless.

Then tears started to stream down their cheeks.

Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done.

That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table.

For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason,

neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.

On a positive note, I've learned that, no matter what happens,

how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.

I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles four things:

a rainy day, the elderly, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.

I've learned that, regardless of your relationship with your parents,

you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.

I've learned that making a 'living' is not the same thing as making a 'life..'

I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.

I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands.

You need to be able to throw something back

I've learned that if you pursue happiness, it will elude you

But, if you focus on your family, your friends, the needs of others,

your work and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you

I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.

I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.

I've learned that every day, you should reach out and touch someone.

People love that human touch -- holding hands, a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.

I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.

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When These Two Become One

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 02:54:08 GMT

Greg Braden - Union of Thought and Emotion

When these two become one...
You can move mountains.

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A rite of passage

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 13:19:24 GMT

This is the legend of the cherokee Indian youths' rite of passage. It is said a young boys' father would take him out into the woods blindfolded and would leave him there throughout the night. The boy is required to sit on a stump in the woods throughout the night and is not to remove his blindfold until the rays of the sun shines through it. The young boy is all by himself and he can not cry out for help to anyone. Once he survives the night he has become a MAN. He must not share his experience with any of the other boys for each one must have their own experiences and each one must come into his own manhood. The young boy is terrified. He hears all kinds of noises in the night and the beasts are all around him. He is afraid that even some human will hurt him. The wind begins to blow the grass beneath him and it shakes the stump that he sits upon. But, He sits there stoically, never removing the blindfold. It is the only way he can become a man. Hours and hours pass and finally his horror ends. The night sounds disappear and he feels the warmth of the sun upon his chilled and aching skin. It is then that he realizes the morning has come. He has made it through the night. He removes his blindfold. It is then that he sees his father sitting upon the stump next to him. His father had been sitting there with him the entire night lovingly watching over and protecting him. We, like the young boy,are never alone... Even when we do not know it, Our father is protecting us. He is sitting on the stump beside us. All we have to do is take off our blindfolds.

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Love for an Eternity

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 03:43:17 GMT

A voice in my dreams speaks of love for an eternity. It echoes in the night of loves' pureness and simplicity. It comes at a time when pain springs forth from the earth. I have become one with the silver moonlit sky, and the stars in the Heavens outshine all that I once knew. They shine, while pearl white doves fly free circling high above in the open sky. Although, I am here all alone the shades of grey are cast to the sky and my fear and sorrows are chased away. It is in the deepest part of the night that I learn, I am finally free. And I am now one with the earth and all the beauty she holds. And as I sit alone with light of the silver moon in my eyes, I dream of the voice that speaks of the echoes of love. A love for an eternity. As I wake to the morning's first light, of gray clouds turn to pink, the Dawn Speaks of a deep peace within, after the storms of the path have renewed the spirit, and the simplicity of All resonates in the Silence.
Even though I am alone, the trees sing to me of the mountain's waters flowing in the brook to the sea, where time and space no longer matter, only the Peace within, the Silence in the Peace, a strength I have never known.
And in the echoes of that strength of simple Peace, the eternal love breathes, the Earth heals from Her woundings, re-writing Who She really is, life and love as One.
And I recognize Her, as I recognize the stars, the clouds, and the Sun's Golden rays, dancing with my true heart, in Peace, as One.
And the Voice is Silent, but makes itself Known. Love can only grow in Peace. And the only true strength is Peace, Silent, accepting, an embrace of hearts as a memory of two drift off to sleep, at one with each other, in Peace and Love, and all is healed in joy, for eternity.
Sharon Littledove (c) 2009 Spirit Warrior (c) 2009

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The Sun Kissed Rose

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Fri, 29 May 2009 20:50:50 GMT

A woman is like a beautiful sun kissed rose. She has an open heart and is able to deeply love many. She is soft and tender as the petals of a rose yet she can stand strong throughout the thorns of life and not become bitter and angry as the harsh weeds that grow around her. The rose is God's gift to man and is the most perfect flower in the garden of Heaven. In the early hours of dawn when the rose first awakens the dew rests upon her brow, calling the little birds to drink from her sparkling nectar and the gentle breezes wrap around her like a silken cloak spreading her fragrance upon the wind. As the sun begins to rise over the horizon, He kisses her upon her brow ever so gently making her even sweeter for love comes through the sun. It is in God's light that she grows. His warmth and love allows her to open and blossom forth to her full and glorious beauty. Her color is rich and vibrant as she glows within the rays of His Son. Once a tiny bud, she now grows tall and strong within His loving and holy embrace. Now ,there are no more weeds to hinder her growth for she stands tall with her face held high and she can face the storms of change that living in an earthly garden can bring. She is protected by His love and sheltered by His grace. And she shines. There is nothing more beautiful than a sun kissed rose . Cherished always, loved forever.
Sharon Littledove 2009 (c)

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A Message from the Angels

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Sat, 02 May 2009 15:17:15 GMT

Dearest Ones, We love you so very much

As the media continues to spread word of doom and gloom remember
that all health begins with your relationship with God, with the
divine light inside of yourself that is your true source. If you
want to be healthy, listen to your body and your heart. So many of
you, God bless you, have been trained to live in your minds. It is
this disconnect of the spirit from the body that heavily
contributes to the world's ills. Take time each day to breathe
slowly and deeply and to imagine your soul's light sinking deeply
into each cell of the body. Take time to imagine that this light
embraces and dissolves any 'particles' of darkness. You do not have
to analyze or understand what these are, just simply allow yourself
to imagine they are being embraced and dissolved by the light.

Take time each day to check in with your body for it has a
consciousness all its own. Ask it, "Body what do you need now? Do
you need rest? Do you need food? Do you need touch? What do you
need?" And then, promise at your earliest convenience to meet those
needs without judgment. If you need rest, be still. If you need
food, ask your body what IT wants and verify this need comes from
the body, not the emotions - just simply ask inside of yourself.
your body will tell you. If you need touch, sit outside and let the
sun touch your skin or the breeze caress you. Find a soft textured
blanket and sit with it surrounding you and allow your angels to
come inside of it and hug you. Ask for hugs. Hold a hand. There are
so many ways you can find to acknowledge the needs of the body dear
one, for the spirit is truly in charge.

Rather than fearing bugs and germs, simply fill your spirit and
your body with so much love that it becomes inhospitable to
invaders, for the bugs and germs on your planet simply exist to
remind you when you are not paying attention to your own needs..
They are not your enemies. Do not send them hatred. Thank them for
reminding you to be well instead, and then dear ones, they will go
running.

In this fashion, by acknowledging the purpose in all beings, human,
animal, microbe, what have you, and thanking them for the purpose
they serve, you will transform your world with the light and the
truth of God's love.

We love you so very much
~The Angels ~

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Little Wren ( a true story)

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 16:09:30 GMT

A little wren with a broken wing came to see me on Sunday, It was a bright and warm sunny day. She said to me " I have come from the Great Woods with the dew of yeserdays' morning to bring you a gift, it is something you are losing. You will soon see this wonderful gift I have for you but first ,can you help me dear Littledove,I am in so much pain can't you see?" So as I went to her ,I gently scooped her up as tenderly as I could and held her close to my heart. I asked the Lord and all the angels too to come and bless this little one, to mend her broken wing, to take her pain and allow her to fly again. I prayed and prayed , I prayed as I held her that she would be free to fly, flying high to the great woods and to drink of the morning's rain. As I prayed these words she laid her head upon my breast and her heartbeat slowed to the rythum of mine.
After a time, the little wren lifted her head and said " dear Littledove I thank you for your love and prayers but my pain is so severe so I will lay my head down right here and shut my eyes ,it's time for me to sleep. But, before I do the gift I bring to you is the gift of faith, Faith that you too can spread your broken wings . Faith that they will heal and you too will have the strength to fly free. And faith in believing that the beauty of your spirit will lift you high." She then spread her fragile little wings one last time and laid her head down and closed her eyes.This little angel brought a message and gave a priceless gift . As I looked to the sky I saw her spirit rise and I know that she is free back to the Great Woods she flies.
Sharon Littledove (c) 2009

Tags: Faith

Shall we Dance??

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 12:36:00 GMT

Robert Mirabal - The Dance

Tags: The Dance

The Morningstar

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 16:22:25 GMT

There's something in the air, a sweetness that I sense, warmth and beauty that permeates the air. As I look up to the sky I see them shining bright,pink and gold against the blackened sky. These sacred living beings alive in the night, beaming love and holy light. And as I look up I see two stars joined as one. There is a sacred dance, a dance of love against a velvet sky. And as the stars whirl and twirl and spiral in their loving embrace there is an explosion of such joy and new stars are born into the thick soft velvet night. Millions are thrown out into the Heavens, they twinkle and sparkle like diamonds leaving their mark of love , a gem filled sky. Now, as the dawn approches I look up again and I see the gift, the two stars have remained as one in the deepest union of the truest love, pink and gold , fused together for eternity and will forever be known as the Morningstar.
Sharon Littledove (c) 2009

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Ways Of The Lakota

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 23:25:10 GMT

The Lakota's own name for themselves was Ocheti Shakowin, the "Seven Council Fires" or seven tribes who originally made up their nation: The Mdewakanton, Walpeton, Wahpekute, Sisseton, Yankton, Yanktonai and Teton. In time these groups became separated by dialect and geography into three distinct divisions.
The easternmost group, comprising the first four became the Dakota or Santee retaining their agricultural tradition between the forks of the Missouri and Mississippi. The second group moved west and lived between the Missouri and James rivers. These were the Yankton and Yanktonai who became the Nakota. The Teton or Lakota moved even further west onto the Great Plains and divided into a further seven sub tribes: Oglalas (Those Who Scatter Their Own), Brule (Burnt Thighs), Miniconjou (Those Who Plant By The Stream), Sans Arcs (No Bows) , Oohenopa (Two Kettles), Sihasapa (Blackfoot) and Hunkpapa (Those Who Camp By The Entrance). Ideally the seven tribes united each summer to renew the nation's unity but each tribe was self ruling and independent.
The word Sioux is totally meaningless and is a corruption of Nadouessioux, a Chippewa word meaning adders or enemies. This word was corrupted by the early French settlers to Sioux.
The Sioux originated from the woodlands east of the Mississippi, where they hunted, grew corn and foraged for wild rice in the lakes and streams of the region. Their neighbours and enemies the Chippewa acquired guns through trade with the white man through the Hudson's Bay Company set up in 1670. With the balance of power increasing in the Chippewa's favour the Sioux found themselves pushed slowly westward, in turn pushing the Cheyenne before them. Eventually the Lakota arrived at the edge of the Great Plains and ventured onto them. This meant a huge change in culture and also that the tribes already living on the plains had to be moved out of the way. The Sioux were very aggressive and soon pushed tribes such as the Crows west and the Kiowas south. By the early 1700's the Sioux were firmly established on the Great Plains.
When the Lakota first ventured onto the plains they had no horse and so walked everywhere. Their belongings were either carried by themselves or on small "A" shaped frames, called travois, pulled by dogs. With the acquisition of the horse, travel became quicker, hunting for food was easier and the travois could become bigger.
The Original Seven Council Fires
"Oceti-Sakowin"

Mdewakantonwan, Spirit Lake People
Wahpekute, Shooters among the Leaves
Sisseton, People of the Fish Ground (Sisseton)
Wahpetonwan, Dwellers among the Leaves (Wahpeton)
Ihanktonwana, Little Dwellers of the End (Yanktonais)
Ihanktonwan, Dwellers of the End (village)(Yankton)
Tetonwan, Dwellers on the Plains (Teton)

In general, Dakhóta/Nakhóta (easterly) are the woodland and Lakhóta the Plains peoples, so just as there are big differences in those environments and life there, there are big differences in culture and lifeways.

After the so-called "great (Sioux) uprising of 1867) the eastern people merged with the Lakhóta of South Dakóta and Nebraska. The 4 very small plots of land (Upper, Lower, Shakopee, Prairie Island) were essentially farms that were "awarded" to Dakhóta scouts. Later a few others came back to those small patches from the Nebraska Santee Dakhóta. These people tended to be or soon become rather acculturated, in comparison to the much larger groups who remained on isolated Badland camps in South Dakóta.

The "D/L/N" sound-difference is not really a present method of dividing the larger group of "Lakhóta" people from the two smaller ones. The history of the three divisions is the main difference. Lakhota is one dialect of a language widely spoken in the northern plains. It is not easy to find a universally acceptable designation for this language, given the fact that there is no unambiguous native name for it. Nineteenth and early twentieth-century scholars (Stephen R. Riggs, Franz Boas) used the term Dakota both for the language and for its eastern dialect. This is obviously awkward and liable to confusion. Here the designation Sioux is used for the language, reserving Dakota for the dialect.

Many speakers of the language dislike the term Sioux because of its foreign origin (cp. Goddard 1984), its use primarily by non-Indians, and because some do not recognize that all the dialects represent the same language.

The Sioux language is the first or second language of about 10,000-12,000 people in the northern plains and contiguous areas of the United States and Canadian prairie provinces. Some speakers of the language are to be found in other places in both countries as well, such as Los Angeles and Toronto. This is one of the largest surviving native language communities in North America.

Lakhota (Teton Sioux) is one of the five closely related dialects. Parks (1990), based on extensive surveys of all the Sioux-speaking reservations and reserves in the late 1970s, identifies these as Santee-Sisseton, Teton, Yankton-Yanktonai, Assiniboine, and Stoney. The easternmost of these is Santee-Sisseton. Nineteenth-century scholars, following native usage, referred to this dialect as Dakota. The westernmost of the dialects, Teton, is designated by its native name, Lakhota or Lakota. Speakers of the Assiniboine and Stoney dialects call their language Nakoda. The remaining dialect, Yankton-Yanktonai, also located geographically between the Santee-Sisseton and Teton dialects, show affinities with both Dakota and Nakoda, although speakers call their language Dakota.

Each of these dialects has reservation- or reserve-based subdialects, some quite different from the others. The subdialects of Teton Sioux oppose the southwest reservations (Pine Ridge and Rosebud) to those on the Missouri River (Cheyenne River, Lower Brule, Standing Rock). The populations on these reservations reflect earlier band divisions among the Teton Sioux, so the present linguistic differences quite likely reflect differences older than the reservation period, which dates only from the last third of the nineteenth century.

The Sioux language, in one or another of its dialects, but chiefly Dakota, has been written for over 150 years by missionaries, anthropologists, educators, and native speakers, using a variety of writing systems, all based on the Roman alphabet. Not surprisingly, there exists a sizable corpus of Sioux writings (see de Reuse 1987, 1990), some favoring a broad rendering of the language, others a fairly narrow rendering. In most cases there is no indication with or in the document of the intended degree of phonological exactitude, although most are more broad than narrow.

Pilamayaye - Lakota

Pidamayaye - Dakota

Pinamayaye- Nakota Originally the Sioux spoke the same language. Over the centuries as they expanded their territories, this language began to evolve into three major dialects.
Lakota in the West, Nakota in the middle, and Dakota in the East.
At the time of the Sioux migration to the Great Plains, the people were grouped into seven major divisions. Together, they formed the "Seven Council Fires," called 'Oceti Sakowin'.

Many members of these dispersed groups would come together each year to celebrate the Sun Dance. The Lakota belonged to the largest of these groups-the Titunwan, or Teton Sioux. Located in the western-most Sioux territory, they spoke a common dialect and shared certain customs different from their Dakota and Nakota counterparts.
The Titunwan are grouped into seven ospaye.
Each ospaye was further divided into bands of extended family groups, called tiospayes.
A typical tiospaye comprised of a man, his brothers and/or male cousins and their families who travelled together year-round.
Together, each tiospaye numbered around 150-300 people. WARFARE Indian warfare was very complicated and strange to the white man, especially as it was never intended to bring a crushing defeat on an enemy and subjugation of the opposing tribe. The Indian way was to always leave an enemy to fight another day or what fun would there be with no-one to fight. War was there to protect hunting rights and land, steal goods (especially horses) and to prove an individual's courage and bravado. This is best measured by the process the Lakota called Anho, which the white man called Counting Coup, from the French word meaning to strike. This was simply touching an enemy, either with the hand, a bow or a Coup stick, a short stick used solely to touch an enemy. This was considered the bravest of acts, much braver than killing an enemy with a gun or arrow from a distance, and carried much more standing when acts of war were told around the tipi fires at night. Killing an enemy was also considered a coup but of lesser standing. The second and third people to touch a dead enemy called also claim second and third coup. Coups were displayed by feathers worn by the warrior and these were cut in ways that denoted the class of coup and how the enemy was killed.

The magnificent war bonnets of the Plains Indian were not decoration and could not be worn by anyone who just felt like it. Every feather in the bonnet had to be earned, either as a coup or the death of an enemy. Therefore those warriors with the biggest war bonnets, sometimes with two feathered trails to the ground were the most respected warriors in the band. Amongst the Lakota the mark of a chief was a single eagle feather worn at the back of the head. Those who were entitled to wear war bonnets were not always chiefs but were very good warriors. This goes against all that Hollywood ever tried to show us in the films, i.e. the bigger the head-dress, the bigger the chief.
War bonnets, along with a warriors other good clothes and favourite possessions went to the grave with him. His best horse was usually killed at the graveside. The reason for this was that he would need all these things in the next life. Basically if you didn't take it with you, you did without it in the next life. Hence a man who had been scalped in this life would have no hair in the next. Although a lot of the symbols on clothing and weapons gave the wearer protection the basic idea of wearing your best clothes to go to war was in case you died. This way you had something to wear in the next life.
Although each band had a war chief or chiefs these were only really used when the whole band or tribe was at war. At other times any warrior who chose could lead a war party to steal horses, get revenge on an enemy or obtain glory and standing through an attack on another tribe. Naturally this man could only lead if others chose to follow him and he would have been a warrior proven in battle, preferably able to show he had good medicine which would protect himself and those who followed him.
A man who had never led a war party before would be expected to ask the help of an experienced warrior in preparing for his first raid. The preparation would take several days, sometimes weeks. Solemn prayers would be offered, the participants personal medicine invoked or strengthened, the omens read and supplies prepared for the journey. If a member of the party considered he had received a bad omen before leaving, or if he dreamt he would die in the ensuing battle, he could withdraw with no loss of face. If a warrior was to develop a toothache for instance before the battle this was considered a bad omen and the warrior would be sent home.
To really receive the glory a warrior craved his enemy must be considered worthy of the victory. When the white man first appeared on the plains he was not considered a worthy enemy as he was so strange and it was considered to be beneath a Sioux warrior to kill a white. This changed out of necessity later on as the white man hounded the plains Indians from their lands and the Sioux had to fight to survive. The Sioux, like all plains tribes were fairly undisciplined in battle due to the over-riding rule of each man's independence. Each man wanted to be first to count coup or kill an enemy so it was usually a race into battle. Many a trap would be sprung early by a young man wishing to get battle honours, who would thereby ruin the trap.
Only with the emergence of leaders such as Crazy Horse who realised the necessity of discipline and planning did the Indians start to prove themselves an efficient fighting force. The Indians found it very hard to understand the white man's ways of fighting although they did see the advantage in having good guns, especially once they realised how they had to change their fighting methods to stay on par with the white man. Indians preferred the stealth attack or ambush to an all out charge but if there was no choice they would exhibit great bravery in their attempts to flush out an enemy or count coup on him. Unlike in the movies the Indian in general realised the stupidity in attacking a well defended fort or circling around a wagon train just to get shot at like a duck at a fairground rifle range.
The rift between the white man and the Indian grew wider every time they met simply because neither could understand the other. To the white man the Indian was a savage, a thief and a beggar who had no morals and would kill anything or anybody and probably eat it afterwards. Because the white man was used to having people in authority acting for them and telling them what to do they could not really understand the Indian's over riding sense of independence or the roles of the chiefs, who were there to advise or see the wishes of the councils were acted upon. When an Indian signed a treaty it was just for himself. He did not have the right to sign for someone else and neither did he want that right. After Red Cloud's War the white man insisted Red Cloud signed the treaty that followed. This confused the Sioux as Red Cloud was not a chief They actually had to make him a chief so that he could sign the treaty.
Eventually the whites insisted that the Sioux declared one man overall chief of the Sioux nation, a concept that the Indian could not get to grips with at all.
The Indian saw the white man as a lower form of life, big only in numbers. There is an old Sioux saying; "you do not go to the top of a mountain for water or to a white man for the truth" which summed up the dealings they had with the white man very well. Every treaty the Sioux made with the whites was broken and NEVER by the Sioux. The American government would always change it's mind about what it wanted and if a new treaty could not be agreed it would force the Indians to give up land or rights.

INDIAN

1) Based on mutuality and a oneness with the spirit word.

2) Family based but with the band being made up of relatives. Other relatives in other bands helped to join the bands together. Also a strong sense of tribal identity.

3) Tribal councils and chiefs to carry out the wishes of the people, always bearing the good of the tribe and it's people to the fore.
A man's independence and freedom of choice was sacred.

4) The plains Indian can be counted in thousands at their peak.

5) Mainly nomadic, following the food supply. Hunter/gatherers.

6) Designed to gain glory, obtain horses or goods, to protect family and hunting grounds.
The Coming of the Horse

The horse had not been native to America since much earlier times, and then not in the form we know today. With the Spanish going gold hungry in South America, they had horses with them, which either escaped or were stolen. Eventually the trading and the stealing stretched northwards until horses were common across the Great Plains.
This strange creature became known as Sunke Wakan (shun-kah wah-kahn) by the Lakota, which translates as Sacred Dog. This exemplifies their lateral thinking. It could do most things a dog could do, certainly all the useful things, but so much better. The Lakota soon had a plentiful supply of horses, as did their neighbours, and it changed their whole way of life. This is how:

1) Transportation: Instead of having to walk everywhere, with the effort and the time that involved, the horse could carry them and their belongings at a much faster rate.

2) Warfare: As the Lakota mastered the horse (and they did become excellent horsemen) they realised it's potential in battle. You could get to an enemy faster, you could use the horse as a shield, getting him to take you in close, and you could get away quicker should you need to.

3) Dwelling: Whereas before the horse the Lakota lived in rather small tipis this now changed. Before, the size of the lodge poles was dictated by what a dog could pull along behind it when travelling from place to place. With the acquisition of the horse, being so much bigger than a dog, the lodge poles could also become much bigger. The travois too could become bigger enabling more goods to be carried. With bigger lodge poles came bigger tipis. Without the horse, the tipi we know today would probably not have existed.

4) Hunting: Buffalo hunting had always been a dangerous pastime. Creeping up close to what is a large, dangerous animal was something you always did with extreme care and caution. With the horse to ride the hunt developed more into the chase as we know it today. The buffalo were still highly dangerous, and only a fool dismounted near an injured buffalo, but your horse could get you in close to shoot your weapon and then take you away quickly should the need arise. The pony you used for hunting was reserved for that pastime alone and was known as a Buffalo Runner. He was always your best and fastest horse.

5) Recreation: Horse racing was considered a great sport amongst the Plains Indian and betting would take place on the outcome. Villages would travel en masse to race their finest against another village.

6) Personal Standing: A man was judged on how many horses he had and he would boast about this, along with his deeds in battle. Horses became a form of currency, so important were they.

7) Marriage Proposals: If a man wished to marry a woman then he would have to impress her father first. Apart from the reputation that the young man had he would do this by offering gifts to the father. This would include things such as buffalo robes etc but would always include one or more fine horses. The idea was to say that the daughter was worth all these things to you. If you offered old or broken down horses then you obviously thought little of the girl and her father would be bound to refuse you unless he was desperate to marry her off to someone. Thankfully, this rarely happened.

So you can see that the arrival of the horse changed the Plains Indian for ever. A man would look after his horses because they became a necessity of his life. The Lakota mastered the horse, breeding them, breaking them to rider, using them for everything. They would also capture feral horses and break them in. The Plains Indian rode bareback, not needing saddle or stirrups and Lakota and horse soon became so close that nobody could remember the time before they came.

The Pipe Smoking was an important ritual as well as something done for pleasure. A man's pipe was one of his most favoured and treasured possessions. The pipe would usually be made of ashwood, a straight piece as long as a man's forearm. This was split in half, hollowed out and bound back together again. The mouthpiece would be wrapped in rawhide which was allowed to dry and shrink until it became as hard as wood. The bowl would be made from red pipestone, shaped and polished and given a final rubbing with buffalo tallow to seal the porous stone. The pipe would be decorated with the owners personal symbols, feathers or furs from the owners personal spirit helper, strips of buffalo hide and horse hair.
Particularly ceremonial pipes would always be adorned with four strips of buffalo hide dyed red, black, white and yellow, the colours of the four directions. Near the mouthpiece would be four braided strands of horsehair, again in the four sacred colours. Sometimes a strip of red paint ran from the bowl to the mouthpiece, symbolising the good red road of spiritual understanding that was sought by all who smoked the pipe. Around the stem of the pipe was a small circle of black to represent the world of worldly cares. Where the black crossed the red was a spot of green representing the tree of life.
Where men met together a pipe would always be smoked formally before any talk took place. The smoking of the pipe was a ritual which bound all who partook of the pipe to telling the truth and keeping his word on anything said. The pipe would be offered by the host to the four directions, the earth and the sky. He would then pass it to the man on his left who smoked and passed it on to the man on his left and so on. It always went to the left as this was the direction the sun took or its journey around the world. The pipe would be filled with a mixture of dried willow bark, tobacco, grasses and herbs. If the mixture was finished before the pipe had gone full circle the pipe would be tapped and cleaned, the ashes emptied into the fire. Upon refilling the pipe, it would again be offered as before, then it would continue it's way around the circle as before. The smoke from the pipe was believed to carry the words of man upwards to the Great Spirit and all men who smoked the pipe were united spiritually.
After the formal smoking of the pipe the talk would begin and each man would then light his own pipe and smoke through the conversation. Pipes were usually long but if a man had suffered some fall from grace or shame then he was expected to smoke a short stemmed pipe. One way to greatly insult a man was to clean out your pipe and empty the ashes over his moccasins.

Sacred Colors

Red: Luta (Lootah) or S*a (Sha)

Yellow: Zi (Zee)

Black: Sapa (Sahpah)

WHITE: Ska (Skah))

These are the four primary Sacred Colors, and the number four (Topa) is a Sacred Number.

Blue: To (Toh)

Green: Tozi (Tohzee) (Blue plus Yellow)

They are associated with the Sacred Directions and the Sacred Spirits of each Sacred Direction.

Sacred Directions:

East: Wihinapa (Weeheenahpah)
Wiyohiyanpata (Weeyohheeyah(n)pahtah)

South: Itokag*a (Eetohkahg*ah)
Itokagata (Eetohkahgahtah)

West: Wi mahiya (Wee mahheeyah)
Wiyoh*peyata (Weeyoh*pehyahtah)

North: Waziyata (Wahzeeyahtah)

These are the Four primary Sacred Directions, and, ake, again, the number Four, Topa, is Sacred.

Sky: Mah*piya (Mah*peeyah)
Grandfather: Tunkasila (Toonkahsheelah)

Earth: Maka (Mahkah)
Grandmother: Unci (Oo(n)chee)

This makes Six Sacred Directions and Sacred Spirits, and together with Wakan Tanka, the Great Sacred (or Great Spirit, or Great Mystery), representing Everything Sacred, The Creator of Everything Sacred, this makes Seven Sacred Spirits, and the Number Seven, Sakowin (Sahkohwee(n)) is Sacred.

Lakota, Dakota, and Nakota Peoples have many different ways of associating the Sacred Colors with the Sacred Directions and Sacred Spirits. The Sacred Colors go with different Sacred Directions and Sacred Spirits even among one People, on one Reservation, depending on the Wicasa or Winyan Wakan - Spiritual Medicine Man or Woman - or even the individual.

East, Red (Luta or S*a): Sunrise, First Light, Knowledge, Wisdom, Birth, Beginning, Spring

South, Yellow (Zi): Full Sun, Growth of All Natural Things, Material Abundance, Adulthood, Middle, Summer

West, Black (Sapa): Sunset, Darkness, Land of Thunder Beings - Lightening, Thunder, Rain, Power, Strength, Death, End, Fall

North, White (Ska): Land of Cold Wind Beings, Fresh Air, Cleanliness, Purity of Mind, Heart, Spirit, Body, Between Death and Life, Spirit World, Winter

Below: Green (Tozi) for Grass or Red (Luta) or Brown (Gi) for Grandmother Earth (Unci, Maka Luta)

Above: Blue (To) for Grandfather Sky (Tunkas*ila)
Lakota Moons
What is used is the lunar calendar, and also follows the moon cycle, which is 28-29 days. This gives twelve Moons some years and thirteen Moons other years. This is the same as a two-year 25-Moon period. Listed are various Oceti Sakowin (Seven Council Fires: Lakota, Dakota, Nakota Peoples) Moon names, and the European months to which they approximately correspond.

Moon of Strong Cold/Frost in the Tipi/Wolves Run Together
(January)

Raccoon Moon/Dark Red Calves
(February)

Moon When Buffalo Cows Drop Their Calves/Sore Eye Moon
(March)

Moon of Greening Grass/Red Grass Appearing
(April)

Moon When the Ponies Shed
(May)

Moon of Making Fat/Moon When Green Grass Is Up/Strawberry Moon
(June)

Moon When the Wild Cherries Are Ripe/Red Cherries/Red Blooming Lilies
(July)

Moon When the Geese Shed Their Feathers/Cherries Turn Black
(August)

Moon of Drying Grass/When Calves Grow Hair or Black Calf/When the Plums Are Scarlet
(September)

Moon of Falling Leaves/Changing Season
(October)

Moon of the Falling Leaves
(November)

Moon of Popping Trees/When Deer Shed Their Horns/Buffalo Cow's Fetus Is Getting Large (December)
LEGEND OF THE WHITE BUFFALO

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One summer a long time ago, the seven sacred council fires of the Lakota Sioux came together and camped. The sun was strong and the people were starving for there was no game. Two young men went out to hunt. Along the way, the two men met a beautiful young woman dressed in white who floated as she walked. One man had bad desires for the woman and tried to touch her, but was consumed by a cloud and turned into a pile of bones. The woman spoke to the second young man and said, "Return to your people and tell them I am coming."

This holy woman brought a wrapped bundle to the people. She unwrapped the bundle giving to the people a sacred pipe and teaching them how to use it to pray. "With this holy pipe, you will walk like a living prayer," she said. The holy woman told the Sioux about the value of the buffalo, the women and the children. "You are from Mother Earth," she told the women, "What you are doing is as great as the warriors do." Before she left, she told the people she would return. As she walked away, she rolled over four times, turning into a white female buffalo calf.

It is said after that day the Lakota honored their pipe, and buffalo were plentiful. (from John Lame Deer's telling in 1967). Many believe that the buffalo calf, Miracle, born August 20, 1994 symbolizes the coming together of humanity into a oneness of heart, mind, and spirit. The Sundance Of all the ceremonies practiced by the Lakota (indeed most of the Plains Indians) the Sun Dance was the most important.
It was a time of renewal, both of the tribe and of the People and the earth. As many bands as possible would come together for this annual rite.
The village would therefore be huge usually with each tribe camping within their own circle and this circle being part of another circle.
A large circular arena would be cleared and a double ring of sticks would be erected around the outside with branches placed on the top as shelter for the dancers, singers and spectators.
The Holy Men would go into the forest and select a tree to be used as the central pole. A man would then be selected because of a great deed or feat of bravery to ‘count coup' on the tree which would then be cut down. As it fell it was not allowed to touch the ground. The tree would then be trimmed and taken back to the dance site, decorated and erected in the middle of the arena.
The next day the dancing would begin at sunrise. Anyone who wanted to dance could do so. The dancers looked at the sun as they danced. Short breaks were allowed but no food or drink was taken. This part of the dance would go on for four days usually while the self-sacrificers prepared themselves.
These people (usually men - it was incredibly rare for a woman to do this) were those who wanted something in particular; good hunting skills, better fighting skills, or something like the curing of a sick relative.
Their bodies and spirits would be purified before the dance and they would each have a mentor to help them through the ordeal. This would be either a Holy man or someone who had already done it themselves.
The Holy Men would have prepared buffalo skulls and these would be placed around the arena. Long lengths of rawhide would be tied to the central pole. The dancers would wear rings of sage on their heads and maybe around their wrists and ankles. Each would carry a whistle made from the wing bone of an eagle.
As they stood around the arena the holy men would approach them and pierce each side of their chests with a length of bone. The rawhide thongs would then be attached to the bone. The dance would then begin, a slow shuffling dance to begin with. Others would choose not to be tethered to the pole in this way. They would have the bones put through their backs and buffalo skulls would then be attached with thongs. The dancers would then drag these heavy skulls around as they danced.
The whole idea of the dance was to remove the bone pieces from your body. The dancers at the pole would pull themselves backwards, trying to tear their flesh and release themselves. Those with skulls attached to their backs would dance over rocks and through bushes hoping to catch the skulls on something and having them ripped from their bodies.
Any who had not released themselves close to sundown were allowed help from their mentors. These men would grab the dancers from behind and jerk them backwards in an effort to tear the bones from the skin.
At sundown, any not released in this way would have the bones removed by the Holy Men in a reverse to the way they went in.
Those who danced in this way would normally be traumatised by the experience. Certainly shock would set in. They were removed to the sacrificers lodge and tended by the medicine men of the village. The Holy Men would also be in attendance, singing their praises to the gods and praying that they will recover swiftly.

(This is a very abridged version of events. The purification rites and other parts of the process have not been included out of respect) Sacred Symbols
To the Lakota the most sacred symbol is the circle as it represents the Earth, the path of the sun around the Earth and the Circle of Life, through which all things must pass. This is why Lakota villages were always pitched in circles and the tipis themselves were round. The Lakota thought the white man out of touch with the world and not at peace with himself, an opinion strengthened by the white's preference for houses with corners, i.e. square or oblong.
Another sacred symbol was the cross which was sometimes shown as running across the hoop of the world. This represented the four directions and was made up of two roads.
The first began in the east where all the days of man began and ended in the west where all the days of man ended. This road was black and was the Road of Earthly Difficulties. The second began in the south where dwelt the power to grow and ended in the north, the realm of white hair and the cold of death. This road was red and was called the Good Road of Spiritual Understanding. Only by walking this road could a man grow spiritually throughout his lifetime and so acquire the wisdom to withstand the difficulties he would surely encounter. Where the roads met and crossed stood the tree of life. The Lakota considered that the white men only walked the black road and were poorer for it.

Stories and legends Song of the Lakhóta Bear Doctors

Lakhóta Language

Hohwoju oyate eya wani ti pi icuhan
kangi wicasa kin sung manu ahi na óta
mawicanu pi na nakun
Lakóta winyan ko akiyagla pi.
Kangi wicasa ti pi heciya winyan
ki le aki pi ca titakuye wica kiksuye na
lila cante sice na ceya ke,
winyan ki ableza pi na heya pi ske,

"Sina ki le ena, woyute ki lena icu,
na wakpala ta inahma ye."

Hoca mni aglala inahma ke, na oiyokpaza
ca gla cu ke, icuhan sungmanitu
tanka nump el hipi na oksan hlo omanipi
ke, takinnas ena kte pi kta kecin
ke. Sungmanitu tanka ki waste ca pi ke ca
ob wancok wi yohinyanpata kiya si
glu hapi ke. Blaye cokan gla pi ehanl
osiceca tanka wan hihunni na icuhan
sungmanitu tanka a ke numb hel opa pi ke.
Hetan tehiya mani pi eyas
hecena gla pi, kangi wicasa
kanyela u pi k'on hetan kawinga pi.

Wooyake ki le wowas'ake yuha.
Lakóta winyan ki le osiceca ahi ca heon
kpapte. Tuwa osiceca icuhan omani ki
le wooyake ki kiksuye ehantans takuni
toka. Anpetu óta mani pi ehanl "Winuhcala Paha"
eya pica hel ihunni pi, iguga ohan
ohloka wan ca sungmanitu tanka ki winyan
ki etkita agla pi. Ohloka ki tima
iyaia yukan lila sicamna ke, ista ki
ecel itaya ca oksanksan etunwan
sungmanitu tanka ki ataya tima hpaya pi ke.
Tokinnas ahiyu pi na kiza pi kta
kecin eyas etan tahca wan
yaslohan yutimahel icupi ca ob wóta.

Sungmanitu tanka ki lena ataya ti ospaye hecapi.
Wicooncage tona ataya hel
on pi. Hunh hoksi azin kiya hpaya pi.
Hunh tanktankpi ca hena wakuwa heca
pi. Hunh ocinsice k'on hena ti awanyanka pi.
Sungmanitu tanka wicahcala ki
ins cikcikala ki lena tokel wakuwa pi
hecel onspe wica kiya pi.
Ataya a'wan kica yanka pi.
Waniyetu ata hel ob wogla ke na iye nawicahun.
Winyan ki lila wakabla na pusye.
Sungmanitu tanka ki waste wicalake
na insiya wastelaka pi.
Winyan ki insiya sungmanitu tanka mna aya ke.
Sungmanitu tanka ki makoce ki le slolya pi.
Tohanl hu numpa ki opta hiyaya
pi can slolya pi, sungmanitu
tanka ki lena hu numpa ki iheyab sna ecun pi.

Lakóta ki tonka mna pi ca he wahtela pi sni.
Wana tinpsinla wasteste
ki walehanl winyan ki le hunku ki hehantan wasigla,
cuwintku ki t'a kecin.
Sungmanitu tanka ki ehake tunweya i pi ca hehan
winyan ki le hunku ki wanyanka pi ca okiyaka pi.
Winyan ki wancok taoyate ki
ekta gla cin, eyas hekta kiya ikikcu
pi ki he slolye sni. Sungmanitu
tanka ki heya pi, tohanl taoyate
el ki na, ob on kta ehantans
sina ki numpa koz si pi na e e ku cin,
ehantans wanjala kos si pi.

Wana, sungmanitu tanka ki kanyela hunku
ki wawopta keya pi ca winyan ki
etkiya iyaya. Ata kici yapi na ceya pi.
Sina ki numpa koza ca sungmanitu
tanka ki hektakiya kigla pi.

Ho, le winyan ki "Iguga Oti Win" eciya pi ca
ohloka ki he Lakóta ki wakan glawa pi. Wico'oyake
ki le wowos'ake ikoya ke ca waneyetu ehanl Olake ki
ungna osiceca wanji hihunni kte.

English Translation

A Minneconjou camp which had settled down for the
winter was raided by Crow Indians.
The Crow stole many horses and took a
Lakóta woman back to their camp.

The Lakóta woman was unhappy staying in the Crow camp.
She missed her people.
Some of the Crow women saw this and took pity on her.
They gave her food and a blanket and told
her to hide by a creek near the camp.
She hid herself in the bushes along the banks of the creek.
A short time later some of the Crow men came looking for her.
While the Lakóta woman was hiding, two wolves came upon her.
The wolves growled at her and circled around her.
The woman thought the wolves were going to kill her.
But the wolves treated her kindly and guided her along
where Crow were chasing them.

A raging blizzard caught the woman and
her wolf friends in the open prairie.
Two more wolves joined them as they walked
through the blowing snow.
The small wolf pack and
the woman struggled through
the snowdrifts and the cold winds.

There is power in this story.
The woman was able to get safely away from the
Crow because of the blizzard.
If one is travelling in a blizzard and
remembers this story - one need not be afraid.

After many days of traveling, the small band reached
Squaw Buttes near present day Opal, South Dakóta.
They came to a cave in the rocks
and the wolves forced her inside.
The cave had an awful smell .

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness,
she saw many wolves in the large den.
She thought that the wolves would tear her apart.
Instead the wolves dragged her in a deer, tore
it apart and shared it with the woman.

The wolves were one big family.
Many generations of wolves lived together in the cave.
Each wolf had its own place in the family.
The hunter wolves brought in the meat.
The mother wolf nursed their young.
The elder wolves taught the younger
wolves the skills of hunting.
The other wolves kept watch over the den.
In this way - they all looked after each other.

The woman made herself at home in the den.
She learned to speak and understand the wolves' language.
The woman would dry and store the meat for the winter.
She got along well with the wolves
and they got along well with her.
Soon she smelled just like the other wolves.

The wolves knew their country well.
They always knew whenever the two-legged ones passed through.
The wolves usually stayed away from the two- leggeds.
The wolves did not like the way they smelled.

At turnip digging time of the year -
the woman's mother was still mourning.
She thought that her daughter had been killed.
One day the hunter wolves saw the mother near the den.
The wolves went back and told the woman.

The woman wanted to go back to her people.
She was worried that they would not accept her back.
The wolves told her to wave her blanket two times if
she wanted to stay with her mother.
If she waved once
the wolves would come and take her back to the den.

When the mother saw her daughter coming
she was so happy to see her that she cried.
The woman waved her blanket twice to
the wolves who were watching her from the hills.
The wolves saw this and went back to their cave.
The woman's name became Iguga Oti Win
"Woman who lived in the rock".
The rock is now considered a sacred area to the Lakóta.

Be Careful of this tale because if it is told on a winter
night it might cause a blizzard! The Quill-Work girl and her seven brothers

Hundreds of years ago there was a girl who was very good at quill work, so good that she was the best among all the tribes everywhere. Her designs were radiant with color, and she could decorate anything clothing, pouches, quivers, even tipi's.

One day this girl sat down in her parents' lodge and began to make a man's outfit of white buckskin -- war shirt, leggings, moccasins, gauntlets, everything. It took her weeks to embroider them with exquisite quill work and fringes of buffalo hair marvelous to look at. Though her mother said nothing, she wondered. The girl had no brothers, nor was a young man courting her, so why was she making a man's outfit?

As if life wasn't strange enough, no sooner had she finished the first outfit than she began working on a second, then on a third. She worked all year until she had made and decorated seven complete sets of men's clothes, the last a very small one. The mother just watched and kept wondering. At last after the girl had finished the seventh outfit, she spoke to her mother. "Someplace, many days' walk from here, lives seven brothers," she said. "Someday all the world will admire them. Since I am an only child, I want to take them for my brothers, and these clothes are for them."

"It is well, my daughter," her mother said. "I will go with you."

"This is too far for you to walk," said the girl.

"Then I will go part of the way," said her mother.

They loaded their strongest dogs with the seven bundles and set off toward the north. "You seem to know the way," said the mother.

"Yes, I don't know why, but I do," answered the daughter.

"And you seem to know all about these seven young men and what makes them stand out from ordinary humans."

"I know about them," said the girl, "though I don't know how."

Thus they walked, the girl seeming sure of herself. At last the mother said, "This is as far as I can go." They divided the dogs, the girl keeping two for her journey, and took leave of each other. Then the mother headed south back to her village and her husband, while her daughter continued walking into the north.

At last the daughter came to a lone, painted, and very large tipi which stood near a wide stream. The stream was shallow and she waded across it, calling: "It is I, the young-girl-looking-for-brothers, bringing gifts."

At that a small boy about ten years old came out of the tipi. "I am the youngest of seven brothers," he told the girl. "The others are out hunting buffalo, but they'll come back after a while. I have been expecting you. But you'll be a surprise to my brothers, because they don't have my special gifts of `No Touch'."

"What is the gift of no touch?" asked the girl.

"Sometime you'll find out. Well, come into the tipi."

The girl gave the boy the smallest outfit, which fitted him perfectly and delighted him with its beautiful quill work.

"I shall take you all for my brothers," the girl told him.

"And I am glad to have you for a sister," answered the boy.

The girl took all the other bundles off her two dogs' backs and told them to go back to her parents, and at once the dogs began trotting south.

Inside the tipi were seven beds of willow sticks and sage. The girl unpacked her bundles and put a war shirt, a pair of leggings, a pair of moccasins, and a pair of gauntlets upon each of the older brothers' beds. Then she gathered wood and built a fire. From her packs she took dried meat, choke cherries, and kidney fat, and cooked a meal for eight.

Toward evening just as the meal was ready, the six older brothers appeared laden with buffalo meat. The little boy ran outside the lodge and capered, kicking his heels and jumping up and down, showing off his quilled buckskin outfit.

"Where did you get these fine clothes?" the brothers asked.

"We have a new sister," said the child. "She's waiting inside, and she has clothes for you too. She does the most wonderful quill work in the world. And she's beautiful herself!"

The brothers greeted the girl joyfully. They were struck with wonder at the white buckskin outfits she had brought as gifts for them. They were as glad to have a sister to care for as she was to have brothers to cook and make clothes for. Thus they lived happily.

One day after the older brothers had gone out to hunt, a light-colored buffalo- calf appeared at the tipi and scratched and knocked with his hoof against the entrance flap. The boy came out and asked it what it wanted.

"I am sent by the buffalo nation," said the calf. "We have heard of your beautiful sister, and we want her for our own."

"You can't have her," answered the boy. "Go away."

"Oh well, then somebody bigger than I will come," said the calf and ran off jumping and kicking its heels.

The next day when the boy and the sister were alone again, a young heifer arrived, lowing and snorting, rattling the entrance flap of the tipi.

Once more the child came out to ask what she wanted.

"I am sent by the buffalo nation," said the heifer. "We want your beautiful sister for ourselves."

"You can't have her," said the boy. "Go away!"

"Then somebody bigger than I will come," said the heifer, galloping off like the calf before her.

On the third day a large buffalo cow, grunting loudly, appeared at the lodge. The boy came out and asked, "Big buffalo cow, what do you want?"

"I am sent by the buffalo nation," said the cow. "I have come to take your beautiful sister. We want her."

"You can't have her," said the boy. "Go away!"

"Somebody very big will come after me," said the buffalo cow, "and he won't come alone. He'll kill you if you don't give him your sister." With these words the cow trotted off.

On the fourth day the older brothers stayed home to protect the girl. The earth began to tremble a little, then to rock and heave. At last appeared the most gigantic buffalo bull in the world, much larger than any you see now. Behind him came the whole buffalo nation, making the earth shudder. Pawing the ground, the huge bull snorted and bellowed like thunder. The six older brothers, peering out through the entrance hole, were very much afraid, but the little boy stepped boldly outside. "Big, oversized buffalo bull, what do you want from us?" he asked.

"I want your sister," said the giant buffalo bull. "If you won't give her to me, I'll kill you all."

The boy called for his sister and older brothers to come out. Terrified, they did so.

"I'll take her now," growled the huge bull.

"No," said the boy, "she doesn't want to be taken. You can't have her. Go away!"

"In that case I'll kill you now," roared the giant bull. "I'm coming!"

"Quick, brother, use your special medicine!" the six older brothers cried to the youngest.

"I am using it," said he. "Now all of you, catch hold of the branches of this tree. Hurry!" He pointed to a tree growing by the tipi. The girl and the six brothers jumped up into its branches. The boy took his bow and swiftly shot an arrow into the tree's trunk, then clasped the trunk tightly himself. At once the tree started to grow, shooting up into the sky in no time at all. It all happened much, much quicker than it can be told.

The brothers and the girl were lifted up in the tree branches, out of reach of the buffalo. They watched the herd of angry animals grunting and snorting, milling around the tree far below.

"I'll chop the tree down with my horns!" roared the giant buffalo. He charged the tree, which shook like a willow and swayed back and forth. Trying not to fall off, the girl and the brothers clutched the branches. The big bull had gouged a large piece of wood from the trunk.

The little boy said, "I'd better use one more arrow." He shot another arrow high into the treetop, and again the tree grew, shooting up another thousand feet or so, while the seven brothers and the girl rose with it.

The giant buffalo bull made his second charge. Again his horns stabbed into the tree and splintered wood far and wide. The gash in the trunk had become larger.

The boy said, "I must shoot another arrow." He did, hitting the treetop again, and quick as a flash the tree rose another thousand feet.

A third time the bull charged, rocking the tree, making it sway from side to side so that the brothers and the girl almost tumbled out of their branches. They cried to the boy to save them. The child shot a fourth arrow into the tree, which rose again so that the seven young men and the girl disappeared into the clouds. The gash in the tree trunk had become dangerously large.

"When that bull charges again, he will shatter this tree," said the girl. "Little brother, help us!"

Just as the bull charged for the fourth time, the child loosed a single arrow he had left, and the tree rose above the clouds.

"Quick, step out right on the clouds. Hurry!" cried the little boy. "Don't be afraid!"

The bull's head hit the tree trunk with a fearful impact. His horns cut the trunk in two, but just as the tree slowly began to topple, the seven brothers and the girl stepped off it's branches and into the sky.

There the eight of them stood. "Little brother, what will become of us now? We can never return to earth; we're up too high. What shall we do?"

"Don't grieve," said the little boy, "I'll turn us into stars."

At once the seven brothers and the girl were bathed in radiant light. They formed themselves into what the white men call the Big Dipper. You can see them there now. The brightest star is the beautiful girl, who is filling the sky with glimmering quill work, and the star twinkling at the very end of the Dipper's handle is the little boy. Can you see him?

this writing from 1901 by an
Ihanktuwan ("Sioux") Woman Named Zitkala Sa:
Zitkala-Sa:

DANCE IN A BUFFALO SKULL

IT was night upon the prairie. Overhead the stars were twinkling
bright their red and yellow lights. The moon was young. A silvery
thread among the stars, it soon drifted low beneath the horizon.

Upon the ground the land was pitchy black. There are night people on
the plain who love the dark. Amid the black level land they meet to
frolic under the stars. Then when their sharp ears hear any strange
footfalls nigh they scamper away into the deep shadows of night. There
they are safely hid from all dangers, they think.

Thus it was that one very black night, afar off from the edge of the
level land, out of the wooded river bottom glided forth two balls of
fire. They came farther and farther into the level land. They grew
larger and brighter. The dark hid the body of the creature with those
fiery eyes. They came on and on, just over the tops of the prairie
grass. It might have been a wildcat prowling low on soft, stealthy
feet. Slowly but surely the terrible eyes drew nearer and nearer to
the heart of the level land.

There in a huge old buffalo skull was a gay feast and dance! Tiny
little field mice were singing and dancing in a circle to the
boom-boom of a wee, wee drum. They were laughing and talking among
themselves while their chosen singers sang loud a merry tune.

They built a small open fire within the center of their queer dance
house. The light streamed out of the buffalo skull through all the
curious sockets and holes.
The field mice were singing and dancing in a circle

A light on the plain in the middle of the night was an unusual thing.
But so merry were the mice they did not hear the "king, king" of
sleepy birds, disturbed by the unaccustomed fire.

A pack of wolves, fearing to come nigh this night fire, stood together
a little distance away, and, turning their pointed noses to the stars,
howled and yelped most dismally. Even the cry of the wolves was
unheeded by the mice within the lighted buffalo skull.

They were feasting and dancing; they were singing and laughing --
those funny little furry fellows.

All the while across the dark from out the low river bottom came that
pair of fiery eyes.

Now closer and more swift, now fiercer and glaring, the eyes moved
toward the buffalo skull. All unconscious of those fearful eyes, the
happy mice nibbled at dried roots and venison. The singers had started
another song. The drummers beat the time, turning their heads from
side to side in rhythm. In a ring around the fire hopped the mice,
each bouncing hard on his two hind feet. Some carried their tails over
their arms, while others trailed them proudly along.

Ah, very near are those round yellow eyes! Very low to the ground they
seem to creep -- creep toward the buffalo skull. All of a sudden they
slide into the eye- sockets of the old skull.

"Spirit of the buffalo!" squeaked a frightened mouse as he jumped out
from a hole in the back part of the skull.

"A cat! a cat!" cried other mice as they scrambled out of holes both
large and snug. Noiseless they ran away into the dark.

Pima Legend
A long time ago the Bluebird's feathers were a very dull ugly color. It lived near a lake with waters of the most delicate blue which never changed because no stream flowed in or out. Because the bird admired the blue water, it bathed in the lake four times every morning for four days, and every morning it sang:

There's a blue water.
It lies there.
I went in.
I am all blue.

On the fourth morning it shed all its feathers and came out in its bare skin, but on the fifth morning it came out with blue feathers.

All the while, Coyote had been watching the bird. He wanted to jump in and catch it for his dinner, but he was afraid of the blue water. But on the fifth morning he said to the Bluebird: "How is it that all your ugly color has come out of your feathers, and now you are all blue and sprightly and beautiful? You are more beautiful than anything that flies in the air. I want to be blue, too."

"I went in only four times," replied the Bluebird. It then taught Coyote the song it had sung.

And so Coyote steeled his courage and jumped into the lake. For four mornings he did this, singing the song the Bluebird had taught him, and on the fifth day he turned as blue as the bird.

That made Coyote feel very proud. He was so proud to be a blue coyote that when he walked along he looked about on every side to see if anyone was noticing how fine and blue he was.

Then he started running along very fast, looking at his shadow to see if it also was blue. He was not watching the road, and presently he ran into a stump so hard that it threw him down upon the ground and he became dust- colored all over. And to this day all coyotes are the color of dusty Earth.

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Feathery Wings

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 23:23:15 GMT

Feathery wings in graceful flight bring your joy and love with sheer delight, flying high on the sweet breath of God and Holy is your name of worth. You Come to us as we walk this earth, protecting us and guiding us until we reach Heaven's gate. Oh sweet angel, in the pureness of His light ,you lift your wings and dance with grace ,always pulling us towards Gods' Holy light and lifting us high to reach the stars in the black velvety sky. Dance and sing while you play your golden harp, a harp that is made of the sweetest dreams for we know all things pure and good are made of Him. Come, shine your light for all to see ,a pure spirit glowing white within your wings. Angel of mercy ,Angel of light come spread your feathery wings in graceful flight and give us peace this night.
Sharon Littledove (c) 2009

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Dance the Dream of Grace

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 04:56:08 GMT

Beyond the starry Heavens is a place of amazing grace.
just open your heart and you will see your place for your
dreams hold the keys .It is where your heart lives without fear.
Allow peace to enter in. Offer kindness in the face of pain and share the joy you have inside with others and live in a state of grace. Give to others with a happy heart, asking nothing in return for the gifts you so lovingly impart.
Heal the body, the holy tabernacle of the soul. Find forgiveness and release the old hurts and anger from the past and seek to become whole while dancing the dream of grace.

Sharon Littledove (c) 2009

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The Peace Council

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Sat, 14 Mar 2009 21:54:33 GMT

These are the messages that were given to me ever since I was three years old. They came to me from the Grandfathers and the Elders of long ago,and they
now have a wish for all the Nations to Unite in Peace. The old ways are right and good. But, It is now time to rewrite the story ,by not making the same mistakes that were made many years before. We must take the lesson of the White Buffalo Calf Woman and many other great ones who have walked these lands, great teachers who spoke of unity,love and peace. We must smoke the Sacred Pipe,and walk the Sacred Way. Walking with honor, walking with love in our hearts, walking with respect for all living beings, walking with acceptance,and tolerance,walking with forgiveness , being willing to wipe the slate clean and to begin again. Just as the sun rises in the East and a new day begins, so can we begin each day new, forgiving the old hurts of the past , letting them go as dust in the wind. We too can begin a new to walk in beauty and in sacredness. As with our ancestors, there may be times when we may have to come to some compromises and there will be sacrifices that we each have to make for the betterment of the whole. This is Walking in Peace. This is walking like a living prayer. We must make Peace with those that we feel are our enemy, and to do this we must unite all our people,Our Nations, our tribes, and stand in unity. When we do this, we stand strong as One People, not divided by bounderies,boarders,fences or imaginary lines, but joined in spirit and in heart. Joined as one family. All of us, man ,woman and child. The Prophecies have been fulfilled as we speak. The Time of One is at hand, and it is time for the wars and the fighting among our own to stop. We are the new generation.That is why we are the most important and the most precious ones.The Pipe is what binds men and women together in Love and Peace. It is the one holy object in the making of which both men and women have a hand,and if we are bound together,both men and women in love and peace,when is there time and space for bickering and wars and fighting amongst our own people? No matter what tribe or nation we say we are from,we are all One,in spirit and heart,One family. We have only One chance left,the spirits say If we have not learned from our ancestors and we do not do it the right way now, All will be lost. But we still have time. We cannot allow the past to remain.
We can change the past by learning the lessons and doing things different now. We must honor our ancestors by showing them that their sacrifices meant something and that they did not die in vain. They want us to take the lessons from them,using the wisdom of today. They want us to come together in unity,All the nations, all people and stand together , strong ,in Peace, for the next generations,to make Mother Earth better than She is now,for that child over there, and this one over here,and the babies our sister is carrying,and all the children here,right now and for those to come.Our ancestors did what they did for us, Now,we must do the same for the children,and Unite. We must be strong and stand in Peace. There have been 4 calves born, and the prophecies say that when there have been 4 calves born, White Buffalo Calf Woman will come again. The end of times as we know them are nearing. Time is of the essence for the children, for our children and all children of the world. This world does not belong to us. It is only loaned to us by them.
Sharon Littledove (c) 2009

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A Message from the Angels

http://LITTLEDOVE.gaia.com — Mon, 09 Mar 2009 15:02:35 GMT

Dearest Ones,

We love you so very much

There is great and glorious change going on right now in your
world. God is in charge and if you live in faith, adhere to
spiritual principles, and acknowledging the source of all that is,
then any changes in your life will be for the better.

So many of you are feeling flooded and overwhelmed with emotions
right now. Fears are being flushed to the surface to be released.
Upsets point out areas in your life that require change. Hopes and
dreams are rising up from within you. The truth, clarity, and
integrity of your soul is begging to be acknowledged. God's divine light
is rising up within you, informing your mind, opening your heart,
and causing a detoxification of your body. All that has gone
unknown within you is now coming to the surface to be seen and known.

Be gentle with yourselves and others. The intolerance that so many
of you are feeling is simply a message that says, "I wish to be
treated with kindness and respect." Instead of trying to change
others, treat yourself with greater kindness and respect. Adhere to
your truth. Make your yes mean 'yes,' and your no mean 'no.' If
someone is not treating you with kindness, simply ignore their
behavior and do not grace it with your time, attention, and energy.

As fears come up within you breathe deeply and bring the light of
God into the areas in your body that feel tight and tense. Pray to
see God's truth and experience His love and He will fill you with
reassurance and send angels for comfort.

As your hopes and dreams come up don't ignore them. Don't say they
are impossible for all things are possible with God. Even if you
don't know how to create change, hold your intention steady
and know that God will assist and guide you.

Dear ones, do not suppress anything that comes up within you these
days. By all means, treat others with kindness, but acknowledge
your feelings for they are rising from within as messages from God.
Sit with your feelings, breathe into them. Love and honor and
respect them for how you can expect others to do this if you do not
do it for yourself. Then breathe deeply again and ask yourself , What are these feelings trying to teach you, what changes do they want you to
make? The changes begin within you dear ones, and then ripple
outward into the world. As you treat yourself with greater
kindness you will give that to others. As you acknowledge your own
dreams, you will find yourself supportive of others who do the
same. As you face your fears, you will have the courage to help
others face theirs.

God's light is rising up within you, filling your mind, heart,
body, and emotions with love. This is flushing out all that is less
than love to the surface to be examined, healed, and then
released. Behind these blockages, truth rises up, waiting to be
birthed and expressed in the world. You are the light of this
world Dear Ones. Allow God to rise up within you,for He IS in you.
Allow Him to clear and cleanse your soul, inform and guide you. This way, you become the change you seek in the world.

We love you so very much.
The Angels

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