Welcome my dear friends. Enjoy your visit and share your thoughts. Thank you, much love

Friday, 19 December 2014

KEEPING IT REAL by Frizzy Lizzy

Hi dear friends and followers. today is Saturday why don't you sit back, relaxe and take five minutes out for Frizzy Lizzy. Thank you for being here, have a great read.
Frizzy Lizzy

Well, Sarah, the coffee's done. Care for another cup? How about one of these Christmas cupcakes to go with it? Oh, sure, it's OK, I won't tell Santa Claus! If you feel that badly, you can tell the nice lady at Weight Watchers about it in January!
Here we are, six sleeps until Christmas 2014, and how things have changed in so many ways since we were children. Is it me or is Christmas no longer the joy and fun that it once was? Has everything gotten so electronic and materialistic that the "peace on Earth and good will toward men" has been forgotten and replaced by expensive toys and text messages?

Speaking of Christmas past, I have a few that I would just as soon forget, but the ones from when I was a girl, there are a few of those worth remembering.

The ones that I remember the best come from the mid and late 1960s. My mom and dad sure put a lot into celebrating Christmas. There were six children and my grandparents available for eating, and did we ever eat!

The kitchen was small by any measure. All of us could not fit around the table at the same time so my folks would feed the youngest children first, then they and the older kids would have their meal. On Christmas Eve no one sat because that table was just too full. No one except my grandmother. She always got a seat!

On that table there was ham, sausages, cheeses. wine, poppy seed bread, nut roll, fancy cookies, rum punch, coffee, and tea - and that was just the table for getting together after midnight Mass! But then, in those days Mass would go for almost 3 hours and by the time you got the last blessing, you were hungry!

So everyone of age to be awake at that time of the night got together for some socializing and went to sleep for a few hours to rest-up to prepare the Christmas dinner.

My dad lived through the scarcity of the Great Depression. I'm not sure why they call it "great" because he thought damn little of it. For him back then, Christmas Day might have been a complete meal in the sense of having some sweets in the house. For his family in 1965 there was no hint of scarcity. I can recall seeing a turkey in excess of 11 kilos in the kitchen. It was so huge to me that I marveled at how such a thing could fit inside the oven!

There is so much more to Christmas than food and drink and I miss all of that, too. Do you remember writing and receiving greeting cards, Sarah? Almost no one does that these days. We got so many of them that my mom would put a basket on the porch rail, under the mailbox, to hold all that the letter carrier would deliver. We got hundreds of them. And so did most of us. It gives me a warm feeling to think of that. No, Sarah, I didn't pee myself, you twit!

Now I send out fewer than 10 cards because so people just don' take the time or go to the expense to mail a happy thought to a fellow human. It's all done by clicking a few keys and sending the same card to everyone on your e-mail contacts list.

It didn't take long for my folks to figure out that I was not a little girl fond of dollies. I was pretty good with other things, like puzzles and games and bolo bats. Yes, a bolo bat. You know, Sarah, that wooden paddle thing with a ball on a long rubber band? Yes, that's it. No, that's not what I called it. The thing was a bolo bat in my neighborhood!

I played Candy Land, Chutes and Ladders, and moved on to Barbie, Queen of the Prom game, but my favorites were Monopoly and, believe it or not, chess. My friend, Diane Paranisi, taught me how to play chess. She learned from watching her brother.

Eventually I got a lot of story books and my folks saw that I loved to read. Well sure, I did. It was an escape, but that's for some other day. Then they tried a few books on science for kids. They were on the right track. I took to them very well. When they bought a set of encyclopedia, I was off in a corner, looking at every page.

Christmas was decorating the house and yard like my mother wanted it. My dad was not a real handyman but my brother had a mind that could figure out almost everything, so he did the decorations. He got up on the ladder and did the blue spruce that my dad had planted in front of the house and the shrubs on the ground. I decorated the windows from the inside with tiny lights.

The realization that MY Christmas had truly arrived came to me when I was 17 and very much in love. It was snowing like there was no tomorrow and the one I loved came to my home to pick me up and take me to midnight Mass with him.

He was a very special guy. He was as honest as the rain; sincere, gentle, loving, caring, generous - yes, he was a Boy Scout at one time in his life, too, Sarah, you nut!

He and I, we were an item. We were always together and we wanted it to stay that way forever. So on that Christmas Eve he gave me a ring. Not a diamond. I was a bit too young for that, but a star sapphire. A blue star sapphire!

If you can imagine me turning into a puddle right before anyone's eyes, you will know how I felt when he put that ring on my left ring finger.

I held him so closely and we kissed and hugged for a bit longer, then we went out to face what was a blizzard to go to the church where we planned to be wed in about three more years.

And Sarah, nothing can beat that Christmas for me. Never before and none since. How about you? What are your finest Christmas memories?

And how about you, the nice people reading this? Please share your Christmas memories, wonderful or not-so-good. They all count as being a part of your life.

I hope that you have enjoyed this poem. My Merry Christmas to you. Thank you again for reading, and do share your thoughts with us. have a great rest of the week

ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ

Thursday, 18 December 2014

A day's long afternoon.

Hi dear friends and followers. today I have another Christmas poem for you composed by me. A days long afternoon. Thank you for being here, have a great read.

A day's long afternoon.

I stood under the great oak 

that had gone to sleep for its winter's nap.
Across the snowy field I gased
into the movements of fires and spruce.
The breeze sought to play a game with my eyes
as is sent the snow's dusting a-swirl in the air,

as the sun shone so brilliantly
on the snow-covered ground.
There it was in the distance, a glitter, 
a sparkle not of winter's making.
Out of nowhere it approached me,
and from the glitter a being came!
She fluttered about me on dragonfly wings,

clad in moss, soft grass, and holly leaves.
"She's a bit underdressed," was my only thought
as she flew twice around my now-spinning head.
"Is your name Trident?" she asked, quite plainly,
in a tiny voice almost inaudible to me.
"A name from my childhood, it is!", I responded.
"But how did you know what others never knew?"
She replied, "I am Agathina from another world.
I've been sent to take you there, if you wish to go."
"If you will come with me, my dear lady,
your questions then and there will be answered."
This tiny being flew around me,
faster and faster, round and round,
until a whirlwind 'round me arose,

so strong it took my feet from the ground!
I felt myself moving through what felt like the air
without a jet or other aircraft.
My eyes were open but there was naught to see
as all whirled and swirled and blew past my face.
At last I was taken to another place in time, 
where love is divine, among a loving kind.
I spent many days of laughter and running,
singing and dancing in the magical forest;
exploring the explored to see once more
that which sparkled and gleamed 
in the warm, golden sunlight of mid-afternoon.

Through green meadows I rode on a dragonfly's back,
With my eyes closed tight. Afraid to fly?
As I opened my eyes a little at a time, 
a garden of beautiful flowers appeared;

Each flower more lovely than the one I just saw!.
On the dragonfly did I soar and swoop,
then we landed in a clearing between the gardens.
And there I saw the most beautiful creature
upon which my eyes have ever rested!
Handsome he was, and he stood so tall,
In a cloak of gold and silver was he;
his dragonfly wings were all a-flutter.
He stopped and folded them to his back,
then he walked towards me in a jaunty gait.
Stopping before me, he introduced himself
As the leader of Fontane.
His crown glowed brightly, as did the palms of his hands,
and he extended them out to me.

Placing his right hand on my chest he said,
"This charm I give you because I know it is
a perfect match for the heart that beats within."
That spot on my chest glowed a golden gleam.
As he removed his hand the glow subsided.
He stood and bowed with his hands clasped before him.
"For now, my lady, you must depart.
We will see one another again, someday."
Puzzled, I looked down at my chest.

He spoke before I could frame my thoughts.
"The charm I gave is not physical, my lady.
It lies in the heart so you can give more of yourself.
It is time for you to return home, my lady, the hours pass.
All is well. It will soon be Christmas Eve.
My escort brought me back to where I had left.
I thought I had been gone for days, maybe weeks
but in reality the time past was but four hours.
Mid-afternoon gave way to the evening's dark.
"Time for me to get home," I thought.

To this day I have never told a soul
about the most wondrous Christmas of my life
and how happy I have been since that bright, winter's day.
And the charm within has never failed
lest I stop believing.

Composed by Cynthia ©

I hope that you have enjoyed this poem. My Merry Christmas to you. Thank you again for reading, and do share your thoughts with us. have a great Friday

ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ

Wednesday, 17 December 2014

I am the Christmas Fairy.

Hi dear friends and followers. today I have a Christmas poem for you composed by me. Thank you for being here, have a great read.

I am the Christmas Fairy.
I flew on the wind and billowing snow;

I landed atop a noble fir tree,
upon a branch; I looked all about.
No wand or golden crown do I wear.
I just glow a bright blue,

like a sparkling star in the midnight sky.
And everything I see,
everywhere I look,
is covered in a blanket of pristine snow,
made all sparkly by the silvery moon above.
On gossamer wings I flew,
to a home nearby I flew,

with windows all lit in a warm, yellow glow!
Through one window I saw
the pretty colored lights, 
and the cards with colorful images,
all hung on the wall.
Stockings hung over the hearth-place,

And Christmas-time treats,
all laid out 
for visitors, when they call. 
I heard children's voices,
so I hid behind the drain pipe.
I heard the Christmas carols sweet, 
reverberate on the frosty air.
From the drain pipe I flew,
to the other side of the home.
I saw a window with a dim, little light.
To that window I hurried
to see what was within.
A single lamp was lighted,
and it barely lit the room;

and on bed away from the window's wall
a child lay, still, and barely awake.
Up I sailed, and onto the roof;
down the chimney I went, and into the house.
I found the room where the child lay in bed.
"Soon there will be another who will come
to this very same chimney," I thought.
I approached the child silently;
I hovered and glowed,
and now my glow was many colors,
like the pretty lights on the tree!

The room flashed in multi-colors.
The child opened her eyes and my, 
how they gleamed
reflecting the colors on my light!
The child smiled and sat-up in her bed.
I motioned to her to join the others;
I followed her closely behind.
But of course no one else could see me,
except for the child whose eyes still dazzled.

She surprised everyone
as she stepped into the room.
She jumped into her mother's arms,

that was something that she was not able to do,
or so it had been for a number of months
since she was taken ill, with what, who knew?
Everyone was so excited to see the girl walk,
to be able to share in the joy and good cheer!
Before I flew to the top of the tree
to twinkle and sparkle and be a part 
of their Christmas, too, 
to the little girl I said,
and not another heard,
"I will always be here for you.
Do not forget that
if you should ever need me."
The bright glow vanished,
As I flew away.
The original occupant of the tree,

a tinsel fairy, adorned its top.
A little while later I watched as Santa Claus,
hefted a big bag over his shoulder,
and down that same chimney he went
bringing joy and cheer that others could see,
and to share the joy that only healing can bring.

Composed by Cynthia ©

I hope that you have enjoyed this poem. My Merry Christmas to you. Thank you again for reading, and do share your thoughts with us. have a great rest of the week

ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ

I am the Christmas Fairy.

I am the Christmas Fairy.

I flew on the wind and billowing snow;
I landed atop a noble fir tree,
upon a branch; I looked all about.
"Complete story above" 
This was an error, published before I was done.
Thank you.

Tuesday, 16 December 2014

A Christmas Fairy

A Christmas Fairy

Hi dear friends and followers, today I have a fairy Christmas story for you.

This story is set in England, in the 19th Century, when long distance traveling took weeks, with schedules much less certain than they are today. The story itself is as current as any of our human emotions.

A Christmas Fairy
by John Strange Winter

It was getting very near to Christmas time, and all the boys at Miss Ware's school were talking about going home for the holidays.

"I shall go to the Christmas festival," said Bertie Fellows," and my mother will have a party, and my Aunt will give another. Oh! I shall have a splendid time at home."

"My Uncle Bob is going to give me a pair of skates," remarked Harry Wadham.

"My father is going to give me a bicycle," put in George Alderson.

"Will you bring it back to school with you?" asked Harry.

"Oh! yes, if Miss Ware doesn't say no."

"Well, Tom," cried Bertie, "where are you going to spend your holidays?"

"I am going to stay here," answered Tom in a very forlorn voice.

"Here - at school - oh, dear! Why can't you go home?"

"I can't go home to India," answered Tom.

"Nobody said you could. But haven't you any relatives anywhere?"

Tom shook his head. "Only in India," he said sadly.

"Poor fellow! That's hard luck for you. I'll tell you what it is, boys, if I couldn't go home for the holidays, especially at Christmas--I think I would just sit down and die."

"Oh, no, you wouldn't," said Tom. "You would get ever so homesick, but you wouldn't die. You would just get through somehow, and hope something would happen before next year, or that some kind fairy would--"

"There are no fairies nowadays," said Bertie.

"See here, Tom, I'll write and ask my mother to invite you to go home with me for the holidays."

"Will you really?"

"Yes, I will. And if she says yes, we shall have such a splendid time. We live in London, you know, and have lots of parties and fun."

"Perhaps she will say no?" suggested poor little Tom.

"My mother isn't the kind that says no," Bertie declared loudly.

In a few days' time a letter arrived from Bertie's mother. The boy opened it eagerly. It said:

My own dear Bertie:

I am very sorry to tell you that little Alice is ill with scarlet fever. And so you cannot come for your holidays. I would have been glad to have you bring your little friend with you if all had been well here.

Your father and I have decided that the best thing that you can do is to stay at Miss Ware's. We shall send your Christmas present to you as well as we can.

It will not be like coming home, but I am sure you will try to be happy, and make me feel that you are helping me in this sad time.

Dear little Alice is very ill, very ill indeed. Tell Tom that I am sending you a box for both of you, with two of everything. And tell him that it makes me so much happier to know that you will not be alone.

Your own mother.

When Bertie Fellows received this letter, which ended all his Christmas hopes and joys, he hid his face upon his desk and sobbed aloud. The lonely boy from India, who sat next to him, tried to comfort his friend in every way he could think of. He patted his shoulder and whispered many kind words to him.

At last Bertie put the letter into Tom's hands. "Read it," he sobbed.

So then Tom understood the cause of Bertie's grief. "Don't fret over it," he said at last. "It might be worse. Why, your father and mother might be thousands of miles away, like mine are. When Alice is better, you will be able to go home. And it will help your mother if she thinks you are almost as happy as if you could go now."

Soon Miss Ware came to tell Bertie how sorry she was for him.

"After all," said she, smiling down on the two boys, "it is an ill wind that blows nobody good. Poor Tom has been expecting to spend his holidays alone, and now he will have a friend with him--Try to look on the bright side, Bertie, and to remember how much worse it would have been if there had been no boy to stay with you."

"I can't help being disappointed, Miss Ware," said Bertie, his eyes filling with tears.

"No; you would be a strange boy if you were not. But I want you to try to think of your poor mother, and write her as cheerfully as you can."

"Yes," answered Bertie; but his heart was too full to say more.

The last day of the term came, and one by one, or two by two, the boys went away, until only Bertie and Tom were left in the great house. It had never seemed so large to either of them before.

"It's miserable," groaned poor Bertie, as they strolled into the schoolroom. "Just think if we were on our way home now--how different."

"Just think if I had been left here by myself," said Tom.

"Yes," said Bertie, "but you know when one wants to go home he never thinks of the boys that have no home to go to."

The evening passed, and the two boys went to bed. They told stories to each other for a long time before they could go to sleep. That night they dreamed of their homes, and felt very lonely. Yet each tried to be brave, and so another day began.

This was the day before Christmas. Quite early in the morning came the great box of which Bertie's mother had spoken in her letter. Then, just as dinner had come to an end, there was a peal of the bell, and a voice was heard asking for Tom Egerton.

Tom sprang to his feet, and flew to greet a tall, handsome lady, crying, "Aunt Laura! Aunt Laura!"

And Laura explained that she and her husband had arrived in London only the day before. "I was so afraid, Tom," she said, "that we should not get here until Christmas Day was over and that you would be disappointed. So I would not let your mother write you that we were on our way home. You must get your things packed up at once, and go back with me to London. Then uncle and I will give you a splendid time."

For a minute or two Tom's face shone with delight. Then he caught sight of Bertie and turned to his aunt.

"Dear Aunt Laura," he said, "I am very sorry, but I can't go."

"Can't go? and why not?"

"Because I can't go and leave Bertie here all alone," he said stoutly. "When I was going to be alone he wrote and asked his mother to let me go home with him. She could not have either of us because Bertie's sister has scarlet fever. He has to stay here, and he has never been away from home at Christmas time before, and I can't go away and leave him by himself, Aunt Laura."

For a minute Aunt Laura looked at the boy as if she could not believe him. Then she caught him in her arms and kissed him.

"You dear little boy, you shall not leave him. You shall bring him along, and we shall all enjoy ourselves together. Bertie, my boy, you are not very old yet, but I am going to teach you a lesson as well as I can. It is that kindness is never wasted in this world."

And so Bertie and Tom found that there was such a thing as a fairy after all.

I hope that you have enjoyed these series of myths and legends of the Native American. Thank you again for reading, and do share your thoughts with us. have a great week

ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ

The Legend of Wolf Boy

Hi dear friend and followers, today we go due south of Nebraska and into Kansas for today's legend, a story from the Kiowa People titled The Wolf Boy.

The Kiowa were nomads. They lived off the land's resources as a hunter gatherer society, dependent upon buffalo, elk, and antelope as large game. Small game included turkey, rabbit, smaller game birds, and in times when game was scarce, lizards, skunks, snakes, and armadillos.

Most of the hunting was done by the men in the Kiowa society while women did the gathering and food preparation.

The Legend of Wolf Boy

There was a camp of Kiowa. There was a young man, his wife, and his brother. They set out by themselves to look for game. This young man would leave his younger brother and his wife in camp and to go out to look for game. Every time his brother would leave, the boy would go to a high hill nearby and sit there all day until his brother returned.

One time before the boy went as usual to the hill, his sister-in-law said, "Why are you so lonesome? Let us be sweethearts." The boy answered, "No. I love my brother and I would not want to do that." She said, "Your brother would not know. Only you and I would know. He would not find out. "No, I think a great deal of my brother. I would not want to do that."

One night as they all went to sleep the young woman went to where the boy used to sit on the hill. She began to dig. She dug a hole deep enough so that no one would ever hear him after hew fell into it. She covered it by placing a hide over the hole and made it look so natural so no one would ever notice it.

Next day the older brother went hunting and the younger brother went to where he used to sit. The young woman watched him and she saw him drop out of sight. She went up the hill and looked into the pit and said, "I guess you want to make love now. If you are willing to be my sweetheart I will let you out. If not, you will have to stay in there until you die.. The boy said, "I will not."

After the young man returned home, he asked his wife where his little brother was. She said, "I have not seen him since you left, but he went up on the hill."

That night as they went to bed the young man said to his wife that he thought he heard a voice somewhere. She said, It is only the Wolves that you hear." The young man did not sleep all night. He said to his wife, "You must have scolded him to make him go; he may have gone back home." She replied, "I did not say anything to him. Every day when you go hunting he goes up on that hill."

Next day they broke camp and went back to the main camp to see if he was there. They concluded that he had died. His father and mother cried over him.

The boy staying in the pit was crying; he was starving. He looked up and saw something. A Wolf was pulling-off the old hide. The Wolf said, "Why are you down there?" The boy told him what had happened, that the woman had caused him to be in there. The Wolf said, I will get you out. If I get you out, you will be my son." He heard the Wolf howling. When he looked up again he saw a pack of Wolves. They started to dig in the side of the pit until they reached him and he could crawl out. It was very cold. As night came on, the Wolves lay all around him and on top of him to keep him warm.

Next morning the Wolves asked what he ate. He said that he ate meat. So the Wolves went out and found Buffalo and killed a calf and brought it to him. The boy had nothing to butcher it with, so the Wolf tore the calf to pieces for the boy to get out what he wanted. The boy ate until he was full. The Wolf who got him out asked the others if they knew where there was a flint knife. One said that he had seen one somewhere. He told him to get it. After that, when the Wolves killed for him, he would butcher it himself.

Some time after that, a man from the camp was out hunting and he observed a pack of Wolves, and among them was a man. He rode up to see if he could recognize this man. He got near enough only to see that he was a man with some wolves. They considered that it might be the young man who had been lost some time before. The camp had killed off all of the Buffalo. Some young men after butchering had left to kill Wolves (as they did after killing Buffalo). They noticed a young man with a pack of Wolves. The Wolves saw the men, and they ran off. The young man ran off with them.

Next day the whole camp went out to see who the young man was. They saw the Wolves and the young man with them. They pursued the young man. They overtook him and caught him. He bit them like a Wolf. After they caught him, they heard the Wolves howling in the distance. The young man told his father and his brother to free him so he could hear what the Wolves were saying. They said if they loosened him, he would not come back. However, they loosened him and he went out and met the Wolves. Then he returned to the camp.

"How did you come to be among them?" asked the father and brother. He told how his sister-in-law had dug the hole, and he fell in, and the Wolves had gotten him out, and he had lived with them ever since.

The Wolf had said to him that someone must come in his place, that they were to wind Buffalo gut around the young woman and send her. The young woman's father and mother found out what she had done to the boy. They said to her husband that she had done wrong and for him to do as the Wolf had directed and take her to him and let him eat her up.

So the husband of the young woman took her and wound the guts around her and led her to where the Wolf had directed. The whole camp went to see, and the Wolf Boy said, "Let me take her to my father Wolf." Then he took her and stopped at a distance and howled like a Wolf, and they saw the Wolves coming from everywhere. He said to his Wolf father, "Here is the one you were to have in my place." The wolves came and tore her up.

I hope that you have enjoyed these series of myths and legends of the Native American. Thank you again for reading, and do share your thoughts with us. have a great week

ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ

Monday, 15 December 2014

The Wisdom of the Willow Tree

Hi dear friends and followers, welcome.

We are back in Missouri today because I had missed highlighting one of the major Siouan Peoples in the middle America, the Osage. The map that I have shows that they had a strong presence in Missouri, along with the Illini, Otoe, Missouria, Quapaw, and Chickasaw.
The Wisdom of the Willow Tree

Today's story is a lesson involving the dream quest and things readily found in nature as teachers. Please read on and see how this story deals with a young man's question about the meaning of life.

The Wisdom of the Willow Tree

What is the meaning of life? Why is it that people grow old and die?

Although he was young, those questions troubled the mind of Little One. He asked the elders about them, but their answers did not satisfy him. At last he knew there was only one thing to do. He would have to seek the answers in his dreams.

Little One rose early in the morning and prayed to Wah-Kon-Tah for help. Then he walked away from the village, across the prairie and toward the hills. He took nothing with him, no food or water. He was looking for a place where none of his people would see him, a place where a vision would come to him.

Little One walked a long way. Each night he camped in a different place, hoping that it would be the right one to give him a dream that could answer his questions. But no such dream came to him.

At last he came to a hill that rose above the land like the breast of a turkey. A spring burst forth from the rocks near the base of a great elm tree. It was such a beautiful place that it seemed to be filled with the power of Wah-Kon-Tah. Little One sat down by the base of that elm tree and waited as the sun set. But though he slept, again, no sign was given to him.

When he woke the next morning he was weak with hunger. "I must go back home," he thought. He was filled with despair, but his thoughts were of his parents. He had been gone a long time. Even though it was expected that a young man would seek guidance alone in this fashion, Little One knew they would be worried. "If I do not return while I still have my strength to walk," he said, "I will die here and my family may never find my body."

So Little One began to follow the small stream that was fed by the spring. It flowed out of the hills in the direction of his village, and he trusted it to lead him home. He walked and walked until he was not far from his village. But as he walked along that stream, he stumbled and fell among the roots of an old willow tree. Little One clung to the roots of the willow tree. Although he tried to rise, his legs were too weak.

"Grandfather," he said to the willow tree, "It is not possible for me to go on."

Then the ancient willow tree spoke to him. "Little One," it said, "all the Little Ones always cling to me for support as they walk along the great path of life. See the base of my trunk, which sends forth those roots that hold me firm in the earth. They are the sign of my old age. They are darkened and wrinkled with age, but they are still strong. Their strength comes from relying on the earth. When the Little Ones use me as a symbol, they will not fail to see old age as they travel along the path of life."

Those words gave strength to Little One's spirit. He stood again and began to walk. Soon his own village was in sight, and as he sat down to rest for a moment in the grass of the prairie, looking at his village, another vision came to him. He saw before him the figure of an old man. The old man was strangely familiar, even though Little One had never seen him before.

"Look upon me," the old man said. "What do you see?"

"I see an old man whose face is wrinkled with age," Little One said.

"Look upon me again," the old man said.

Then Little One looked, and as he looked, the lesson shown him by the willow tree filled his heart. "I see an aged man in sacred clothing," Little One said, "The fluttering down of the eagle adorns his head. I see you, my grandfather. I see an aged man with the stem of the pipe between his lips. I see you, my grandfather. You are firm and rooted to the earth like the ancient willow. I see you standing among the days that are peaceful and beautiful. I see you, my grandfather. I see you standing as you will stand in your lodge, my grandfather."

The ancient man smiled. Little One had seen truly. "My young brother," the old man said, "your mind is fixed upon the days that are peaceful and beautiful." And then he was gone.

Now Little One's heart was filled with peace, and as he walked into the village, his mind was troubled no longer with those questions about the meaning of life. For he knew that the old man he had seen was himself. The ancient man was Little One as he would when he became an elder, filled with great peace and wisdom which would give strength to all of the people.

From that day on, Little One began to spend more time listening to the words his elders spoke, and of all the young men in the village, he was the happiest and most content

I hope that you have enjoyed these series of myths and legends of the Native American. Hope you all liked it. Thank you again for reading, have a great week

              ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ