Part I: The Human Being and the River Fish

Long ago, in the time before our ancestors, the Great Spirit created the mountains, the rivers, the foods that rise from the ground, and all the animals that inhabit the Earth.  It was with this power that the Great Spirit also created the Human Being.

One day, the Great Spirit said to the River Fish, “I must leave now to create more mountains and rivers and animals to inhabit this Earth.  You must watch over the Human Being while I am away because he is unable to care for himself.  He is stubborn and foolish and full of greed.  He takes what he wants without asking.  Teach him well.  Teach him how to eat the foods that grow from the lands that I have made for him.  Teach him all the good things of this Earth.  But, be very careful.  The Human Being can be sly and cunning and deceitful.  These ways can surround him like a sickness.”

The River Fish said, “I will do as you ask.  But I cannot leave the water because I cannot breathe the sky the way the Human Being does.”

To the Human Being, the Great Spirit said, “You will do as the River Fish tells you.  You will listen and obey him.  He will teach you the ways of the Earth.  These are my words and you will follow them.”

The Human Being replied, “I will do as you ask.  I will listen to the words the River Fish has to say.”

After the Great Spirit left, the days passed and the Human Being was stricken with a great hunger.  The River Fish tried to help the Human Being, to teach him how to gather and eat the foods that rose from the Earth, but the Human Being would not listen.  He was too stubborn and lazy and the words hurt his ears.

The Human Being looked at the River Fish for a long time and finally said, “Let me take you from your water.  I will fill this bowl with water and will not let the sky touch you.  And then you can show me the place where the food grows.”  The River Fish replied, “This sounds like a good idea.”

When the Great Spirit returned after creating other lands, he looked for the River Fish that he had created, but found the waters bare.  He searched all over and finally found the Human Being lying beneath a tall tree.  His belly was big and round and his mind was full of laziness.  The Great Spirit asked the Human Being, “Where are all the fish that were to teach you the ways of the Earth?”

The Human Being replied, “I was hungry.  I asked the River Fish to take me to the place where food grows, but my hunger was too great.  I am sorry, but I ate all the fish that swam in the river.  Please do not be angry with me.  This is my nature and I cannot change who I am.”

Part II: The Human Being and the Sparrow

A bowl of spaghetti.  The kind of meal you’d eat with your friends at The Brick in Roslyn, Washington, on a Saturday night.  Or with a wild sparrow at an outdoor mall in the middle of San Diego, California.  Chuck Greywolf would probably think that was good karma.

I first met Chuck Greywolf during Cicelyfest ’98 in Roslyn.  Chuck is a wonderfully gracious and personable man.  He was born of Hopi, Apache and Mayan ancestry and lives the life of a traveling storyteller, and maker of drums and flutes.  He once said that you're born with two instruments.  The first one is your heart, which is the drum.  And the second one is your own voice, which is the flute. (1)

Chuck’s tales of the Indian people – folklore and tradition, legend and myth – are magical.  As he tells these stories to his audiences, he would play the flute, and then would ask someone to come forward to receive a gift.  And with each gift came a different story - about the gift itself and what it means to each person receiving it.

At the end of the evening's festivities at Cicelyfest, after many people were brought on stage, Chuck calls out my name. As I stand next to a piano, Chuck begins to tell the story of the flute and its meaning.  As I listen to his words, I notice Chuck’s large wide-brimmed hat sitting on the top of the piano.  I take off the cap I’m wearing, and place his hat on my head.  The hat is so large and deep that it covers my eyes and drops down to my nose!

 

The audience begins to giggle, and Chuck, realizing that something odd is going on, stops in mid-sentence.  He turns and looks up to see me wearing his hat and then he begins to laugh, too.

Legend says that after he saw me wearing his hat, I crossed both arms and waved my right hand forward as an Indian would --  “Good…trade.”  But that’s only legend…

Chuck finishes the story of the flute and then reaches inside his bag of gifts and presents me with a small woodcarving.  The carving begins at a single trunk and then splits into two branches, looking much like a wishbone.  One side represents the finger of Man with a sharp spear at the tip of the finger.  The other side is the figure of a fish, its mouth open in expectance of food.

Later that night at The Brick, I sat with Chuck and all my Moosebuds, drinking the local brew and swapping stories.  I ask Chuck about the meaning of the woodcarving that he gave me.  What does it mean in Indian folklore?

Chuck tells me the story of the Fish and Man, their creation and struggle.  Legend says that the Great Spirit gave Man the ability to nurture life or take it away.  The “nature versus nurture” conundrum, as Chris Stevens would say.

The day after I returned home from Roslyn, I went to a local outdoor mall to grab a bite to eat, stopping at Sbarro’s for a bowl of spaghetti.  As I sat in my chair enjoying the sunshine, the past few days in Roslyn were still fresh in my mind.

As I was thinking of Chuck’s story about the relationship between Man and the Fish, a sparrow flew down from above and landed on the crest of the chair on the other side of the table.  The bird was about three feet away, its feathers mussed, and its body skinny.  It was eyeing my bowl of spaghetti and evaluating me.

To my surprise, the sparrow hopped onto the table and bounced toward me, stopping short of my bowl.  The sparrow tilted his head and looked at me with one eye.  I took a pinch of garlic bread and laid it next to the bowl, and with my index finger slowly pushed the bread forward.  The sparrow cocked his head again, looked at the bread, then at me, then at my bowl of spaghetti.

Hmmm…

I gently pushed the bowl forward.  The sparrow hopped a couple more times, then matter-of-factly reached in with its beak and plucked out a few strands of spaghetti.  When its beak was full, it fluttered away.

I sat there in amazement.  Well, that’s never happened.  I wondered if…

I reached inside the bowl and removed a few strands of spaghetti and cut them into smaller pieces, placing them in the palm of my hand.  And then I waited.

Within a few minutes, the sparrow returned, once more landing on the crest of the chair, and then bravely bouncing onto the table.  I slowly extended my left hand.  The sparrow hopped closer and closer, and then pressed its breast against my thumb.  It reached into the palm of my hand, slowly filling its beak with spaghetti.  As it fed, I rubbed my thumb along its ruffled feathers, and suddenly I realized that this bird was either starving or nesting, or both.

After the spaghetti was gone, the sparrow flew away once more, never to return.  I began to wonder…what forces guided this sparrow to me?  Was it hunger?  Was it the need to survive?  Did this sparrow’s instinct for survival somehow overwhelm its fear of Man?

And then I remembered the woodcarving that Chuck gave me as a gift…

Ah, yes...the Great Spirit works in mysterious ways.

(1) Drum Traditions that Span the Pacific, by Alan D. McNarie

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