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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Old Indian Legends by Zitkala-Sa: rice. A little wild boy stopped his play among the tall grasses.
His long, loose hair hanging down his brown back and shoulders was
carelessly tossed from his round face. He wore a loin cloth of
woven sweet grass. Crouching low to the marshy ground, he listened
to the wailing voice. As the voice grew hoarse and only sobs shook
the slender figure of the woman, the eyes of the wild boy grew dim
and wet.
At length, when the moaning ceased, he sprang to his feet and
ran like a nymph with swift outstretched toes. He rushed into a
small hut of reeds and grasses.
"Mother! Mother! Tell me what voice it was I heard which
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