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That was pretty funny Obsidiana. Good story.


Vance Rowe
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Hello to all,

I see I have a little catching up to do on this topic, I am glad to see others have joined us here at the campfire. Welcome Obsidiana! You told a wonderful story, I loved it!

Jase, you are too funny! You've got Male! hahaha!

Vance, I loved the Christian Bear story, too much. Thank you.

Thank you all for your wonderful stories, and for the laughs. It helps to keep the campfire warm with so many lively spirits here.

Conni, I think it is a wonderful thing to teach the children. You have my permission to use anything of mine that you choose for those little ones who are our future. Enjoy the pow wow. And prayers going up for your sister, may she be well.

I put out a new article today on Sacred Herbs, and am using the forum topic about herbs as a link to it. So I am trying to build up a few herb references there, if anyone has anything they could add to that thread, it would be much appreciated.

I will bring another story soon, either tonight or tomorrow. In the meantime, keep the fire going, for I foresee many joining us....

Now, who's got the marshmallows?



DawnEagle Summers
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Hmmm... no marshmallows, but I've got chocolate (with ground espresso of course) and graham crackers! We can make smores!

Hi everyone, love the stories, think I'll stay a while.


Gayle Santana
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Welcome Gayle,
Thanks for the smores! I love them! And for the coffee, always needed at a campfire!

I promised another story, so let me find one real quick for us.... (that's the pause before the story, while I think of an appropriate tale to tell!)

Since it is gardening time, I have chosen this one, to remind us of the sacredness of all of life:

The Corn Spirit - Tuscarora

Long ago, they say, there was a village of people whose cornfields were blessed with good harvests, year after year. They had so much corn each year that they began to take it for granted. They stopped weeding the fields and the children trampled the cornstalks as they played.

When harvest time came, the people picked, but they did not do it well.

Much of the corn was left unpicked and only the birds ate it. The people wasted more than they ate. They threw ears of corn to their dogs.

As they had always done, they dried some of the corn to eat in the winter and use for seed corn the next spring. They placed this corn in storage baskets to bury for the winter, but they did everything carelessly. The corn baskets were not well made. The storage holes were not dug deeply or well covered.

"There is much game in the forest," the people said. "We can always hunt to survive, even if the stored corn spoils."

So the people went on without showing respect for the corn that gave them life. They even forgot to say thanks to the Creator for their good fortune.

Only one man remembered to show respect. His name was Dayohagwenda. Dayohagwenda cared for his fields and weeded them. He harvested his corn carefully and gave thanks for his good harvest. He stored his corn with great care. He was sad about the way the others acted.

That autumn, after the harvest moon, the people went hunting. But the hunters had bad luck. Animals were hard to find. It seemed that the deer and moose and even the rabbits had all disappeared from the forest.

The people tried to fish, but the streams and lakes were empty.

Finally, the people dug up their stored corn. But the poorly made baskets had fallen apart. Much of the corn had been eaten by mice. The rest had rotted away.

"What shall we do?" the people said. "We will starve."

Meanwhile, Dayohagwenda was walking in the forest. He was thinking about the way his people no longer showed respect for the corn or gave thanks.

As he walked, he found an old trail. It led to a clearing in the forest. In that clearing was a lodge made of elm bark and built on top of a mound of earth. Weeds grew all around the lodge. In front of the lodge, an old man dressed in torn clothing sat weeping.

"Grandfather," Dayohagwenda said, "why are you weeping?"

"I am weeping because your people have forgotten me."

"Why are your clothes torn?"

"They are torn because your people threw me to their dogs."

"Why are you so dirty?"

"I am dirty because your people let their children trample me."

"Why are there weeds around your lodge?"

"Your people no longer take care of me. Now I must go away and I can never return again to help them."

Now Dayohagwenda knew who the old man was. He was Corn Spirit.
"Grandfather," Dayohagwenda said, "do not leave us. I still respect you. I will go back and remind my people how to treat you."

The old man stopped weeping. "Grandson," he said, "I will stay with you. If your people show me respect, I will not leave them."

Dayohagwenda went back to the village. "We are going to starve," the people said. "Our corn is gone and we have no other food."
"Listen," said Dayohagwenda, "I have been in the forest. There I found a lodge surrounded by weeds and an old man wearing torn clothing the color of corn husks. He said his people deserted him and he was going to leave forever."

The people understood. "It is Corn Spirit," they said. "He has left us and now we will surely die."

"No," said Dayohagwenda, "I spoke with Corn Spirit. I told him we would treat him with respect. He said that if we respect him, he will help us through the winter."

Then Dayohagwenda dug up his own stored corn. His baskets had been well made. He had dug his granary deep and covered it properly. All of his harvest was there.

There was more than he had remembered storing, much more. There was enough to feed the whole village through the winter. There was even enough left to use as seed corn for planting in the spring when the leaves of the maple tree were the size of a squirrel's ear.

From then on, Dayohagwenda's people always showed respect for the corn.

They planted with care and hoed and weeded.
They sang songs of thanksgiving as they harvested.
They made strong baskets and deep storage pits for their granaries.

Most of all, they remembered to give thanks for the blessing of corn and all of the other good things they had been given.
They taught their children and their children's children to do the same.

So it is to this day.

- Source : "Neshoba".

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DawnEagle Summers
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btw, Gayle is our Coffee editor here. I tend to visit her forum because of all the wonderful coffee aromas that lead me to it. Being a coffee lover, it was not hard to find!

Thanks for joining our campfire Gayle, we are honored to have you here.

Many Blessings,


DawnEagle Summers
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Aw Shucks DawnEagle!

You're making me feel so special!

I am loving sitting around the campfire too!


Gayle Santana
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Ya Ta Say my fellow "camp-sitters",

I see the fire is still burning brightly and the food excellent.
I have so enjoyed the stories and yours, Dawn Eagle, especially. I have loved the story of "COLORS" since I was a little girl and it was so nice to hear again.

I come empty-handed but would like to accept the "Talking Stick" from Dawn Eagle and tell a tale.....one that brings tears to my heart as it does to Chief Dan George.

For I have an "adopted" wolf whom I love dearly even though she lives across the country. Her name is Mireya and she is quite a beauty with a temperament to match.

My story as told by the Chief: I wanted to give something of my past to my grandson. So I took him into the woods, to a quiet spot. Seated at my feet he listened as I told him of the powers that were given to each creature. He moved not a muscle as I explained how the woods had always provided us with food, homes, comfort, and religion. He was awed when I related to him how the wolf became our guardian, and when I told him that I would sing the Sacred Wolf Song over him, he was overjoyed. In my song, I appealed to the wolf to come and preside over us while I would perform the wolf ceremony so that the bondage between my grandson and the wolf would be lifelong. I sang.

In my voice was the hope that clings to every heartbeat. I sang.

In my words were the powers I inherited from my forefathers. I sang.

In my cupped hands lay a spruce seed -- the link to creation. I sang.

In my eyes sparkled love. I sang.

And the song floated on the sun's rays from tree to tree.

When I had ended, it was if the whole world listened with us to hear the wolf's reply. We waited a long time but none came. Again I sang, humbly but as invitingly as I could, until my throat ached and my voice gave out.

All of a sudden I realized why no wolves had heard my Sacred Song. There were none left! My heart filled with tears. I could no longer give my grandson faith in the past, our past.

At last I could whisper to him: "It is finished!".
"Can I go home now?" He asked, checking his watch to see if he would still be in time to catch his favorite program on TV.
I watched him disappear and wept in silence.
ALL IS FINISHED!

by Chief Dan George (chief of the Salish Band in Burrard Inlet, B.C.)

.....with tears in my heart "All is finished".
wakan tanan kici un.....May the Great Spririt Bless You.
kimi kaya

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I am also new, and I have a story.

I am mixed blood, Cherokee/Choctaw and European. I was raised away from the community and have not learned many of the old ways. I have always had a longing for such knowledge, for membership in the community. I have two children, ages 7 and 11, and a Non-Native husband. I have no been able to introduce them to their Native heritage properly and have also had a longing to do this.

A kind man I had become acquainted with on a different forum is Cherokee as well. He told me about a pow wow outside of Sherwood, Ohio, that would have a significant Cherokee representation. I brought my family to this pow wow. It was different from the many others I have attended. Previous pow wows were of a more commercialized sort; they were large, sponsored by a university, held indoors in a sports arena.

This pow wow was small. It was community. I made friends with the vendors; I was more than a customer. I was a member of the community.

It was held outdoors as pow wows should be. The PA system did not hurt my ears. There were no crowds pushing and jostling. My children danced. I felt a great pride seeing my children dance, experience a taste of their heritage.

I met this kind man who had told me about the pow wow. He was as wonderful and I expected him to be.

I was given two precious gifts at the pow wow. I also met this man's wife. She told me about this site, as well. I was given the gift of her friendship. She also gave me a beautiful, crimson shawl. It is truly a thing of beauty and among my most treasured possessions now.

No, that is wrong. I was given three precious gifts: friendship, a shawl, and seeing my children dance, experience a bit of being NDN.

That is my story. To this lovely woman, I say wa-do.

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DreamyMystique,
Your thanks is humbly accepted. It was MY pleasure and priviledge to be part of your special day.

Kimikaya.....your story makes me cry. The wolves are coming back! So are the bear....we live in Southwestern Ohio and the black bear are here! They haven't been here in many, many years. Maybe they know we need their help. Bear Spirit is my helper. Has been with me since I was a small....really small child.
Coyote is coming back, too. There are lots of them....and bobcats! There here, again!

Another pow wow weekend! Good strong positive energy. A couple renewed their marriage vows in the Sacred Circle. There were just 2 drums, but each drum did a set of three songs in a row. I like that system. Gives the other drum a good break.

On Friday afternoon my David and I were on our way home from taking our Cocker to the 'big house'....the kennel. A hawk had been hit by a car and was lying dead on the road. We turned back so I could pick her up. She was a young bird. Her body was badly broken; I offered tobacco and sprinkled some on her and we took her home. When we got home, I placed her in a plastic bag on a bed of sage and laid sprigs of cedar on top of her before closing the bag. She had to be placed in the freezer until we can take her to a young man who will do the right thing with her. (he's one of those young people who is an Elder....I don't know how to explain it; I reckon most of you know what I mean). He will know how to honor her in the right way. David will take her to him this Friday. I cried and cried. The birds of prey are just beginning to come back...hawks have been here for a good while, but the eagles returned only 3 - 4 years ago.

Next pow wow is in Bellfontaine, Ohio in 2 weeks. It's the second Shawnee pow wow for the year. They host 2 each year. A really good one, folks. Worth a weekend road trip!

'nuff words for now.....need to try and find the physical energy to unload the car and put things away. We drummed and sang for 10 hours Saturday and 8 hours Sunday.....5 hour trip home. I'm a tired old woman. Robert Frost's 'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening' comes to mind...."And miles to go before I sleep; and miles to go before I sleep....."

I pass the Talking Stick onto the next.....
Peace be with each of you throughout the day.
Conni

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Happy Monday to all gathered here at the campfire. It is a wonderful feeling of energy I get just stopping by. I thank you all for your wonderful stories, and heartfelt words, I am honored to be amongst you.

The Gallup Intertribal Ceremonial will be on August 8 - 12 this year, and that is the next one I will attend. Rodeos, dancing, and Navajo tacos - I can't wait!

Conni, I'm glad you were the one to find the Hawk. A very sad thing to happen. No words come, only feelings...and prayers.

Later this week I will be Entering the Silence, and will be gone for two days, probably Wednesday and Thursday. I know I leave the campfire in good hands.

I welcome those of you who have just joined us, and thank you for being here.

On Saturday I passed around white candles on some of my other sites, and I'd like to do the same here. I feel that we need a little positivity right now, and want to offer the candles to be lit in the name of peace, and healing for us all. My candle is lit, and I offer it to you all, to surround us all with it's bright white light, bringing peace and positivity. Will you light a candle with me?

I loved the wolf story, I can never hear that one enough. We do need to pay attention to the disappearing animals, and that story reminds us of how the sacredness of this world is not being passed on to the children. Thanks to Conni for teaching the children about these important lessons from our past through the stories she will tell.

I will be back later with a story. In the meantime, everyone have a wonderful, peace-filled day.

Walk in Beauty,

Last edited by DawnEagle_NativeAmerEd; 07/23/07 01:48 PM.

DawnEagle Summers
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