I want to tell you a story that comes from our relatives to the south — the Lakota Oyate — but the teachings, ah, they speak to all of us who walk the land with respect.
Long ago, in a time when the people were hungry — not just in their bellies, but in their spirits too — two young Lakota men went walking across the prairie. They were scouts, looking for buffalo, for food. But what they found was something far greater.
In the distance, a figure appeared through the dust and sunlight — a woman dressed in white buckskin, glowing like the morning mist on the water. One of those men, he saw her and thought only with his flesh. He did not carry the teaching of respect in his heart. And because of that, he was taken by the spirit — he fell, turned to bones right there in the grass.
But the other one, he knelt. He remembered the ways of his ancestors. He saw that she was not just a woman — she was sacred. She was a helper sent by the Great Mystery. Wakan Tanka, they say. And we — we know that name too, even if we say it differently. Kise-manitow, the Benevolent Spirit.
She told that young man to go back to his people, to prepare, for she was bringing a great gift. And when she came to their village, she brought something powerful — a Sacred Pipe. Not just an object, but a way of speaking with the spirit world. A bridge between the seen and unseen.
She taught them how to pray, how to fast, how to listen to the land and to the ancestors. She gave them the sweat lodge, the vision quest, the sun dance — ways to cleanse, to remember, to come back into balance.
And when her teachings were complete, she walked away. But before she disappeared, she lay down and rolled on the earth — and in that moment, she became a white buffalo calf. That, my relatives, is a sign of hope. A reminder that even in times of despair, the sacred still walks among us.
You see, this story — though it comes from another nation — speaks to what we know in our bones: that the animals are not just animals. They are relatives. They are teachers. And when the world forgets itself, Creator sends reminders — in dreams, in songs, in the form of a white buffalo calf.
To this day, when one is born, the people gather, they remember the old ways. Because that calf reminds us that the sacred never left us. It’s just waiting for us to return.
So I tell this to you now, with the firelight in your eyes and the stories waking in your spirit:
Remember who you are.
Walk in a good way.
And listen, always, for the teachings that come — not just from people, but from the wind, the water, and the hoofbeats of something sacred.
Mîkwêc. Ekosani.
—Kanipawit Maskwa
John Gonzalez
Standing Bear Network
