|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Old Indian Legends by Zitkala-Sa: open grave. Iktomi was troubled. At length, stooping over the
white dried bones, he took hold of one and shook it. The bones,
loose in their sockets, rattled together at his touch. Iktomi let
go his hold. He sprang back amazed. And though he wore a blanket
his teeth chattered more than ever. Then his blunted sense will
surprise you, little reader; for instead of being grieved that he
had taken back his blanket, he cried aloud, "Hin-hin-hin! If only
I had eaten the venison before going for my blanket!"
Those tears no longer moved the hand of the Generous Giver.
They were selfish tears. The Great Spirit does not heed them ever.
IKTOMI AND THE MUSKRAT
|
