My name is Little Big Vision. I am seven years old and proud to be a Cherokee. I got my name from the chief of our tribe, Walking Tall. I am a dreamer. A dreamer of bigger and better things to come. Walking Tall says, one day my visions will come to be a reality, as I have a special gift. My sister, Laughing Spirit, and I have much work to do everyday. I make pottery and she paints them. She also crushes the corn into meal for our evening suppers. We make many things from the cornmeal. Our favorite is flat bread. We also make corn cakes and corn bread from it. When we are done with these things, there is plenty of other work to keep us busy here in the village. We gather wood for our evening fires and we bead chains and necklaces. We leave the bigger items to be beaded to the grown-ups. They bead moccasions, belts, dresses and many other things. As Laughing Spirit and I grow older, we too, will be able to bead the bigger items. I can't wait. My favorite time of day though is in the evenings after our work is done. All the people from my tribe gathers around the great blazing fire. Walking Tall, sits in his favorite spot where he can see all that is going on around us. The village which is nestled in a small clearing with giant pines surrounding us, quiets down to just muffled talking. The birds are tucking themselves in for the night, and off in the distance, we sometimes hear a lone wolf howling, letting us know he is near. This is when the story teller tells us of things passed down from our ancestors. I can vision it all so clearly! The big buffalo hunts, and the warriors in their war paint ready to go off and fight for the rights and survival of our people. Sometimes, they are funny stories though, of how our people got their names. Like, Falling Horse. He was my great-great uncle. When he was a young boy, and learning to ride his painted pony, he kept falling off. Someone would always have to pick him up and plant his bottom back on his pony. It wasn't until several days later, that it was discovered why he kept falling off. He kept rubbing bear grease on the pony's back. For some reason, which no one ever knew "why", Falling Horse thought the bear grease would make his pony run faster. I always thought when hearing this story told, that Falling Horse should have been named, Bear Grease. Some evenings we have special ceremonies with the beating of the drums, and our people dancing around the fire while our chief, Walking Tall, sits cross legged on the ground and smokes his pipe. The smoke has great power and it carries our prayers up to the Great One in the sky. My visions are so clear and vivid. They fill my senses with such clarity. I know one day, I will be a strong warrior who will do what needs to be done to help and protect my people. We have much to learn but even more to teach others. I am only seven but I have already learned that we are proud people. We even have our own tongue we speak in. It is very different from the white man. We work together, we play together, but mainly we stand together. I am Cherokee... and proud of it!
By: ~Christie S. Hayes     |
