Long ago, when the trees still spoke to each other and the lakes had no names, there lived a moose unlike any other. His name was Wâpimiskow — White Moose. He was not born white, they say. He became that way after walking through a dream given to him by the Spirit of the North Wind.
He was a great bull — antlers like branches of the old birch, legs strong enough to carry rivers, eyes deep as muskeg. But he did not fight for power or chase glory. Wâpimiskow was different. He stayed near the edges of the herd, watching over the calves, walking beside the elders, protecting the ones too slow to run.
The other animals asked him,
“Why do you not lead the charge or take the best grazing grounds?”
And he would answer only with a breath, a nod, and a watchful eye.
Because he knew — true fatherhood is not about being seen. It’s about being there.
One winter, a great hunger came.
The snow fell too early. The ice stayed too long. The willows withered. And the wolves grew desperate. They came, not in twos or threes, but in packs that moved like shadows across the land. The herd began to scatter, calves crying out for their mothers.
That’s when Wâpimiskow stepped forward.
He did not run. He did not hide. He stamped the earth and called to the wolves — not with anger, but with purpose. With the full weight of a protector who had chosen his role.
The fight was long. The snow was marked. The wolves circled, tested, fell back. But they never passed him. Not one calf was lost. Not one elder was touched.
When the dawn came, the wolves were gone. So was Wâpimiskow.
They say his body was never found — only great tracks in the snow that led to the mountain, and vanished into mist.
From that day, the Elders taught:
A father is not just the one who feeds you.
He is the one who stands between you and the storm,
who gives his strength so that yours can grow.
He does not ask to be thanked —
he is the hoofprint beside yours that you never noticed,
until you look back.
And now, when a young moose stands bravely, or a father holds his family firm through hardship, the people say:
“Wâpimiskow walks again — not as one moose, but in all who protect with love.”
—Kanipawit Maskwa
John Gonzalez
Standing Bear Network
