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Featured Article ********************************** Native American Storytelling The art of storytelling is passed down from one generation to another by chosen, recognized or hereditary storytellers. The Storytellers hold a much respected position among tribes and the positions are usually reserved for the elders. Some stories are shared at certain times of the year and in designated areas and on special occasions. As well, parents, family members and elders shared their traditional knowledge with younger generations in the course of daily activities. The stories are told through movement, music and dance , using symbols and imagination. Historically the American Indian has enjoyed a system of education anchored by storytelling and practical lessons. The stories instilled appropriate fear of real dangers and obedience of elders, and society's rules. They teach us about the origin of sacred objects and ceremonies, and our relationship to the animals , plants, rocks and each other.. The stories help keep the American Indian culture alive, which helps to keep the history and culture from being diluted or destroyed in America's "melting pot." Below are some links to native stories on the web. ][ Mi'kmaq ][ Cherokee ][ Lumbee ][ Occaneechi ][ Suggest a Native American subject you would like to be featured in future issues. |
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Native American Recipe ********************************** Fresh Herb Jelly Submitted by: Wendy - Yield: 32 Ounces - 2 c Water 3/4 cups freshly squeezed lemon juice 1 package powdered pectin (1 3/4 oz) 1/4 cups fresh chives, finely chopped 1/4 cups fresh thyme leaves, finely chopped 1/4 cups fresh oregano leaves, finely chopped 1/4 cups fresh basil leaves, finely chopped 1/4 cups fresh tarragon leaves, finely chopped 4 c Sugar In a large saucepan, stir together the water, lemon juice and powdered pectin. Place the saucepan over high heat and bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Add the sugar and herbs while stirring. Bring the mixture to a full, rolling boil 4 minutes, then remove from the heat. Skim the foam off the top of the mixture and pour into clean, sterilized jars. Seal with parrafin, if desired, and allow to set overnight. "NOTE" If the jelly does not set overnight, remove the parrafin and reheat the mixture over high heat. Bring to a hard rolling boil 2 minutes, repour into the jars, and reseal. Because you are working with herbs and not fruit, sometimes the pectin doesn't react the first time and needs to be reboiled. Suggest a Native American recipe you would like to be included in future issues. |
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Native American Poem ********************************** Submitted by: Cm AKA Red Willow She Who Hears Crows Sing Early that morning the crows filled the trees, Many consider their cackling a nuisance, To her they are as natural as a sweet scented breeze, Sacred messengers of news, comfort and ease…. She knew by their tone and the song that they screeched That before morning her sacred place must be reached…. So she slipped away to her secret place in the woods Her pathway lighted by a near full moon… With ease she traversed the difficult pathway deep into the lagoon. Stripped of all jewelry and things synthetic She waited patiently…. In the distance she heard the warbled coo of the doves Sweet sounds of a new family of quail… Rustling of the leaves and crackling of branches As the deer came to water down this sacred trail. She awaited the arrival of the Great White Heron It didn’t take long, Soon he stood before her, His outstretched neck so white and so long…. He didn’t bristle, looked deep into her eyes, then knodded with dignity For he knew her and of her many visits to the secret place, He knew her as she who follows the crow’s song… The Red Tail Hawk was soon to follow…. Perched directly over her head… He offered her his greeting as his wing’s he did spread. And nestled above her to assure safe passage, Breaking the silence only when a creature sought to approach No other being is allowed this night to encroach. Secure in the knowledge of Toma overhead She laid back quietly upon moist soft leaves which formed a bed. But before reclining she moved her sage and the cradle abalone shell, She waited for them to come, wondering what they would tell…. Descending slowly at first She allowed the pulse of the earth To fill her with rhythm and rhyme… On her feet now… It was dancing time…. Gently swaying and moving in steps taught by her elder, Now the drums she did hear, First in the distance… Now very near. Her eyes now closed, her body glistening with sweat, Then the warmth of a hand, Callused from living off the land, She knew this was an ancient she had never met…. Over the years she had met and known many, Who took her to places and showed her the days of peace and plenty… And taught her the rules of conduct and dignity, Trying to help her live in both worlds in modern society. On this night abruptly the drums did stop, Gently to her knees the hand guided her to drop, Before a fire now the face she could see, Beautiful woman, wizened with age… A face who knew both peace and tragedy. She felt a pull back into her life, Remembering she hadn’t told her mate She would be going that night, For she felt his fear and his fright, Sensing this the Ancient sent comfort to her spouse Reminding him that she always returned safely to the house. In a language not spoken today, They sat together, she listened, They spoke and Together they did pray… Much knowledge was shared on this night, The Ancient told her to follow the path of her words to share Our plight… To remind our youth that the path may be changed Ancients saw the earth impacted and rearranged…. Like fire which can destroy, It always regenerates and brings warmth and joy, Tell that the spirit of the almighty tree… Lives on, even when desecreated If only we would see….. To return to our roots of honor and simplicity, We can live in both worlds in harmony and dignity…. If there is one thing that must be learned, We must open our hearts to those have spurned… Raped and raided and altered our path, Like the great quakes it is over if we accept and adapt…. Never relenting, always keeping our heads held high, In the doing of the people’s work, we must never… Forget to celebrate earth, water and sky. We must move forward and educate our youth To avoid the paths of poisons and defeat….. When they accomplish this, their Ancients are ready to greet. When the gently hand left, She could no longer feel the warmth of the Ancient’s breath… It was nearly dawn, She wondered once again where the time had gone. Quickly she drove home…. To write this poem, The Ancient’s visit did spawn. Suggest a Native American poem you would like to be included in future issues. |
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An Indian Prayer ********************************** ©1996 Noel Knockwood, B.A. - Elder O Great Spirit of the South, whose warm breath of compassion melts the ice that gathers round our hearts, whose fragrance speaks of distant springs and summer days, dissolve our fears, melt our hatreds, kindle our love into flames of true and living realities. Teach us that he who is truly strong is also kind, he who is wise tempers justice with mercy, he who is truly brave matches courage with compassion. Suggest a Native American prayer you would like to be included in future issues. |
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Native American Humor ********************************** Author: unknown A guy traveling through the prairies stopped at a small Indian village and went into a cafe. He sat up to the counter, ordered food, and after eating he lit up a cigar and sat there quitetly blowing smoke ring. After he blew nine or ten smoke rings into the air, an angry native stomped up to him and said, "One more remark like that and we'll settle this outside!" Suggest a Native American joke you would like to be included in future issues. |
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Be sure you check out our complete collection of Native American Free Music demos.
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