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Ya Ta Say Everyone!

I believe that there are no others that can tell a story like a Native American! I so enjoyed reading the two above. Pilamaya Phyllis and Vance.

But...are we the only three sitting around this warm and inviting fire? I would love to see others join us; with a story, or poem, or just to stop by and say 'Hello'.

There is a poem on my desk that I would like to share:

"May the Great Spirit Bless you with the joy of life,
The warmth of love and the wonder of Spring.

May the winter snows that covered the earth
Fill the springs with sparkling water.

May Mother Earth guide your feet.

May Father Sky keep his arms around you.

May Grandfather Sun warm your cold days.

May Grandmother Moon keep
The glow in your heart.

May the new Spring bring you
Warmth, Love, and Peace".

And may we all walk in Love and Peace,
kimi kaya

How beautiful your poem is, Kimi. Thank you so much!

Blessings and walk in peace.
Phyllis

Happy Valentine's Day to all around the campfire.

And may I offer you some Indian Wishes...


May the years ahead give you a
peaceful ride with the wind...

May the sun light your way as gentle waters
carry you to places of undiscovered joys...

From sunrise to sunset...
May your day be a journey of the imagination and spirit...

May love and joy rush through your
day like a cool mountain stream...

May the path be smooth beneath your feet...

May your heart be as free as the wind!

For the strength of your spirit, the gentleness
of your heart, the courage of your dreams...
you are greatly admired.

Wakan Tanan Kici Un,
kimi kaya

Kimi,

That is so beautiful. Did you write that? You are a wonderful writer. Thank you.

Welcome back to our Campfire. Our fire needs more sticks, songs, poems and sharing. Kimi Kaya, Connidee and Vance - you are all so great at writing and sharing. I have a legend I would like to share with you:

Tlingit-Haida Creation Myth

Before the world came into being, a spirit ruled from the clouds. Beneath his realm was nothing but water. Raven was servant to the spirit. One day Raven was far from his home in the sky and became very weary. He flew on and on over the vast body of water, but could find no place to rest. Finally, he began to beat the water with his wings. He beat so hard that waves on each side of him rose up high, almost to the clouds. The waves suddenly became rocks that increased and spread into islands. Sandy beaches formed, and eventually plants grew from the sand.
Rave decided the land would be his, but after a while he grew lonely all by himself. He took two large piles of shells and from them he created two human beings, both women. Soon the women complained that Raven should not have made two women; one should have been a man. So Raven transformed one into a man, and that made everyone happy. That first pair was the ancestor of the Indians who lived on the islands.
Unfortunately, it was not long before the people began to quarrel, and they quarreled and quarreled. At last the spirit came down from his cloud kingdom and warned them that they would be destroyed if they could not learn to live in peace. And for a while, the quarreling ceased. It started once again, however, and the spirit changed them into cedar trees. He then told the others, "If you can learn to live in peace, you will have these lovely trees for many things: planks for houses, trunks for canoes, bark and roots for mats and baskets. From inner bark you will make clothing." The people had learned their lesson well, and from that time they have used cedar trees for all those things.

Phyllis, I know this story very well. I live in a Tlingit village and was adopted by the Raven Clan.

Bahrain,
Thank you so much for sharing that information. I grew up in the Pacific Northwest and my father had many stories of the time he lived with his tribal friends in the Flathead area. Raven has always been one of my favorite beings. Do you have any other stories you can share with us? There is one called "How Raven stole Squirrel's Potlatch", but I cannot remember it all. My brother worked at the March Point Trading Post for the Swinomish and I miss their fantastic Salmon Barbeque feasts.

How Raven Stole Crow's Potlatch

Once upon a time, a long time ago, in the Pacific Northwest, there lived a magical bird named Raven. Raven was a shape shifter. He could turn himself into a man and then back again into a bird simply by pulling his beak over his head, like a mask. Raven practiced and practiced until he could quickly turn himself into any animal. Using his special power of shape shifting, Raven could fool other animals into thinking he was, well, just about anybody.
Raven was very smart. He had considerable charm. He was also a thief and a liar. Raven used his charm to make his lies sound like truth. Creatures who trusted Raven often found themselves in big trouble. But Raven did not care. Raven was as selfish as he was clever.

One day, Raven looked up at the sky. "Winter is coming," he said, in a surprised sort of way. "The snows will fall soon. I bet Squirrel has piled up lots of food by now," Raven said thoughtfully.

But when he flew by Squirrel's house, Squirrel did not even bother to look up. He knew Raven. "Go away, Raven," snapped Squirrel. "You are not stealing food from me. Not one single nut."

In a pout, Raven spread his wings and soared away. "Bear will have food," he thought. But when Raven arrived at Bear's cave, Bear was sound asleep for the winter. All Bear's food was stored in Bear's belly.

"Goose always knows where good food is hiding," Raven laughed. But when Raven arrived at Goose's home, no one was about. Goose had flown south for the winter, and had taken his whole family with him.

Raven soared off to the top of a tree to think things over. An idea took shape in his devious mind. Grinning broadly, Raven soared off in search of Crow. Crow was Raven's cousin.



Crow


"Crow!" Raven called out when he spotted him. "Everyone's talking about your beautiful voice! They can't wait to hear you sing!"

Crow knew that Raven was selfish. Crow knew Raven was a thief. Crow knew Raven often lied. Just the same, it was hard to resist Raven's charming compliments. Crow did have a beautiful voice. It was his one vanity, as Raven well knew.

"You're inviting me to your potlatch, right?" Raven asked eagerly, sounding sure of it.

"Potlatch?" Crow puzzled. "As in huge party?" Crow shook his head. "I can't have a potlatch. It would take all my winter storage of food to feed my guests. And what about all the cooking and cleaning?"

"I'll help you get ready!" Raven offered generously. "It will be easy if we do it together!" Raven smiled warmly at his cousin. "Oh, Crow. I'm so proud to be related to you. Everyone is thrilled at the thought of hearing you sing!"

That very night Crow and Raven began cooking. The next day, while Raven flew about, inviting everyone to "his" potlatch, Crow cooked and cleaned and practiced his singing.

"The best song yet!" Raven raved, as he stopped by to taste this and nibble that. "Delicious!" Off Raven flew to invite more creatures to "his" potlatch.

Raven told each of "his" guests to use Crow's back door. That way, they would not have to wait with the crowd at the front door to enter. "After all," Raven told each and every one of them. "You are my very special guest."

Finally, the big day arrived. Everyone came to Raven's potlatch except the animals that had flown south for the winter, and the animals that were snoozing away in their caves and burrows. Everyone that is except Squirrel. Raven had not invited Squirrel.

"Here comes Elk," Raven called down to his cousin. "There's Rabbit!"

Raven soared off, supposedly to see what other guests were approaching. Instead, Raven circled around and landed behind Crow's house. First, Raven shape shifted into Elk. Then he galloped around to Crow's front door.

"Welcome to my potlatch, Elk!" Crow welcomed Raven the Elk excitedly.

"Thank you for inviting me, Crow," replied Raven, who was pretending to be Elk. "I am looking forward to hearing you sing!" Raven the Elk lowered his head and entered Crow's house.

Raven raced out the back door of Crow's house and shape shifted again. He hopped around to the front door of Crow's house, this time pretending to be Rabbit.

"Thank you for inviting me! I can't wait to hear you sing!" squealed Raven the Rabbit, in response to Crow's greeting. He hopped inside.

By then, the real Elk and the real Rabbit had arrived at Crow's back door. Raven quickly changed back into himself. "Welcome to my potlatch," Raven greeted his guests. "Elk, my good friend, come in, come in. Rabbit! How good to see you!"



Eagle

And so it continued. Raven greeted "his" guests at Crow's back door. Then he shape shifted around to Crow's front door. "Thank you for coming to my potlatch," Crow told Raven the Rooster, and Raven the Coyote, and Raven the Eagle, and Raven the Mouse, and Raven the Bobcat.

Raven found the whole thing delightful. No one suspected a thing! Raven laughed and laughed.

When all the real guests had entered though Crow's back door, Raven dragged Crow away from Crow's front door, and pushed him into the middle of the room.

"Crow is going to sing for us!" Raven shouted over the noise of the party. Crow's singing received huge cheers. "One more song, Crow," called Raven, over and over. Bursting with happiness, Crow sang and sang until his voice was hoarse.

It was a wonderful party. Everyone joked and laughed and ate and cheered Crow's songs. At the end of the potlatch, all the left over food was divided and packaged up. As was the custom, each guest received a package of food to take home.

"Thank you for inviting me to your potlatch," each guest thanked Raven.

Crow tilted his head in puzzlement. He tried to tell his guests that this was HIS potlatch. But Crow's voice was gone.

That winter, Raven received invitations to many potlatches. Raven had a wonderful time, joking and laughing and eating. At each potlatch, he received a package of food to take home. But no one invited Crow. After all, Crow had never invited them to a party. Why should they invite him?

Poor Crow. To eat that winter, he had to beg scraps of food from the People. Crow could not even tell anyone what Raven had done. Crow had lost his beautiful voice forever. The only sound he could make was a shrill "caw ". And that, I'm afraid, did not help him at all.

Bahrain - I would love to hear more of and from the Tlingit village where you live. I had a friend, years ago, in Washington who had kin in one of the Tlingit clans. Do you live in the village year round? Do you have potlatch's very often? Have you ever been to one of the potlatch's at March Point? I really miss the Pacific Northwest. Any news you can share will be greatly appreciated.

Blessings,
Phyllis

Vance, thank you for sharing the story about Raven and Crow.
Does anyone else have a story or song or poem to share?