"I give thanks," he replied.

"What do you mean Grandfather?" I asked.

"Each time I roll a cigarette I give some of the tobacco back to Mother Earth, and in this way I am saying thank you to our Creator for all that he does for us," explained Grandfather.

"I wondered what you were doing Grandfather because I watched you waste a lot of tobacco but now I see it is not a waste."

He said, "Dicky Sprout", he called me this name because my name was Dick, short for Richard, "You see in everything we do we should give something back to our Creator and to Mother Earth giving thanks and pray that we will be blessed in the future."

So it was that my Grandfather prayed so many times each day and at meals he never touched a bite of food unless he shared some of the food from his plate with the small animals such as cat, dogs or fowl nearby. Most time Grandmother would say grace and after he got his plate full he would get up from the table with the plate and scrape some in a bowl for the small creatures which grandmother later would feed.

My cousin and I whom lived with our grandparents were not allowed to build a bow and have arrows to hunt with. We would build them and grandfather would find them--he would break them and put them back in the hiding place where we had hid them.

He explained to us, "Some of our neighbors down the road have lost family in Indian conflicts and they will always hate us because of it. So we must not give them reason to remember these times and turn their hate upon us, do not do anything that will show that we are Indian and we will get along with our neighbors.

Of course there was no chance of us to speak the language of our Cherokee fathers but in our way we practiced the ways of a warrior which grandfather would tell us about. He would tell us stories about how the warrior was the finest human being in the world and his courage and bravery exceeded above all men. The warrior could run for miles and miles, he could see keenly and was aware to any changes about him. The warrior was a proud man whom would give his life for his people in what ever way.

A warrior I wanted to be but then the warrior I expected to be never existed so I felt being a cowboy would be the next best thing--but as life has its way with us I would grow up to be a "concrete cowboy", a truck driver.

Grandfather lived the ways of his ancestors because he was taught to do so however he stayed to himself keeping his ancestry from outsiders. He could not tell anyone that his Grandmother was a full blood Cherokee because that would mean he would be labeled "Indian". The penalty for that would be he could never own any property nor could he vote and much of his rights as a citizen would be lost. To this day I have not been able to find the burial place of my Great Great Grandmother.

My Great Grandmother, my Grandfather's mother was the handmaiden to my birth. She wanted to stay and care for me after I was born. The year was year 1931 and she pleaded with my father asking to stay and care for me.

She said, "I won't take up much room, I'll sleep on the floor out of the way someplace and I don't eat much." My mother explained she begged but my father would not let it be. When I heard about this from my mother it was not to my understanding that father would not let my loving grandmother stay with us and care for me. I hid my sadness and held my tears in frustration.

Mother said Great Grandmother would hold me and sing to me as she was so proud of her great grandchild. Mother said she loved me very much and it caused her much sadness and pain when she had to leave... She died six months later...so it was....

Now in my elder years I have been blessed to hold my grandchildren and sing to them as babes in my arms, singing to them in the language of my grandfathers. I have been able to give them ancestral names which they are proud of and at least they will remember their grandfathers.

There is something magical about singing to them as when nothing else would calm them down I would be allowed to hold them and sing to them in my awkward voice straining to make the sounds of the Cherokee corn songs. (songs of blessings) They would almost instantly quiet down and fall into a restful sleep--even as they sat in their car seats and they would cry the native songs would quiet them to a peaceful rest.

Even now some of them ask me to sing the, "Wa Ha" song to them. I have been blessed and so have my ancestors through the small spirits of these little children.

I share these words with you in love and gratitude.

"UPDATE"

"The children spoke about in the above words are no longer "small" as one of them now is nearing high school".

Click on the Wolf and go to "United Methodist Dayspring Church"

"Native American Fellowship"

"East Peoria, Illinois

Visit "SEVEN CIRCLES HERITAGE CENTER" of Peoria, Illinois.

Click on the Wolf and go to "Seven Circles Heritage Center"

Here is a site I hope you will visit. It is about a master in flute making--His name is Randy Starnes and he makes some of the finest flutes made by anyone.

Click Go to "Thunder Bear Flutes"

Click on the Wolf and go to "Cherokee Publications"

I welcome your comments and or opinion.

dlower@comcast.net 

Page updated June 29, 2008

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