Wigwam B-2
Totem
Teachings
True stories of native Indian history,
folklore, heroes and heroines.
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Trail
of Tears – Reflection!
Dear
Readers,
(Some stories just need to be told!
Some stories are hard to hear!
Some stories, we should just listen to anyway)!
This story and
stories about this story make me angry, embarrassed, and
ashamed! That
being said, I feel compelled to share it here so you the
readers, who may not know of this history, can hopeful
take something away with you after you read it!
I pray that, that something, will be compassion!
There are many ways
to relay this portion of history to you.
I have chosen to do it through a handful of
documented words from a couple of the survivors from the
“Trail of Tears”.
The bulk of their horrific conditions, I could not
bring myself to write about here in detail.
My
throat and heart ache with sorrow and grief, as I post
this story here for you to read.
The voices, and cries of these young and old, sick
and tortured, dying, and spiritually dead native people, I
can hear in my head!
The images of these mothers are engraved in mind as
they cradled the tiniest of little spirits in their arms,
until they can carry them no more. The sorrow, pain and
hurt, of these helpless and empty men, I feel deep in my
soul!
The hell and sadness of these people, I did not
experience. What
happened to all of them is unimaginable, and I cannot
pretend to comprehend this horrendous act!
It is, and always will remain …inconceivable to
me!
With
head bowed in deepest respect,
White Sparrow
Trail
of Tears Prayer
“We
are now about to take our, leave and bid a kind of
farewell to our native land, the land that The Great
Spirit gave our Fathers; we are on the eve of leaving that
country that gave us birth.
It is with sorrow that we are forced by the
authority of the white man to quit the scenes of our
childhood, we bid a farewell to it and all we hold
dear.”
Author,
George Hicks, Cherokee leader on the “Trail of Tears”.
November 4, 1838
Written
by Georgia - Volunteer, c. 1870:
“I have fought through the Civil War and have seen men
shot to pieces and slaughtered by thousands, but the
Cherokee removal was the cruelest work I ever knew!”
In
the summer of 1838
in one of the most shameful acts that the United States,
ever perpetrated, the army cruelly rounded up 16,000
Tsalagi women, children and men, and confined them for
months in disease ridden camps.
In the autumn, the “Trail of Tears” began. The
people were forcibly marched on foot across 1000
miles throughout a bitter winter, without adequate
food and clothing. The
best parts of their journey were frostbite and
starvation; their worst parts, I cannot even post here in
type! 4,000 of
these people died on the trek!
Those that survived and reached Oklahoma had to try
to begin to rebuild their lives in a strange land.
“Long
time we travel on a way to new land.
People feel bad when they leave Old Nation.
Womens cry and make sad wails, children cry, and
many men cry, but they say nothing and just put heads down
and keep on go towards West. Many days pass and people die very much.”
(Unknown Native survivor quote).
The Legend of Cherokee Rose
The Cherokee rose
represents the suffering of the women who walked on the
“Trail of Tears” when it was forced upon them in 1838.
Being unable to care for their children, the
mothers' hearts were broken.
Their grieving was so deep that the Elders prayed
to the Creator for a sign to give the mothers strength and
faith. The
next day, as they walked along the trail, a beautiful,
white flower grew wherever a mother’s tear fell and
touched Mother Earth.
The white flower is a white rose called “Cherokee
Rose”, which still grows along the route of the “Trail
of Tears”.
(From
the bottom of my heart, I wish to specifically thank those
of you who have traveled here and taken the time to read
this brief summary about the “Trail of Tears”
history).
May
the Great Spirit watch over you!
-White Sparrow
Give us hearts to understand
Never
to take from creation’s beauty more than we give,
Never
to destroy wantonly for the furtherance of greed,
Never
to deny to give our hands for the building of earth’s
beauty,
Never
to take from her what we cannot use.
Give
us hearts to understand
That
to destroy earth’s music is to create confusion,
That
to wreck her appearance is to blind us to beauty;
That
to callously pollute her fragrance is to make a house of
stench,
That
as we care for her she will care for us;
We
have forgotten who we are.
We
have sought only our own security.
We
have exploited simply for our own ends.
We
have distorted our knowledge.
We
have abused our power.
Great
Spirit, whose dry lands thirst,
Help
us to find the way to refresh your lands.
Great
Spirit, whose waters are choked with debris and pollution,
Help
us to find the way to cleanse your waters.
Great
Spirit, whose, beautiful Earth grows ugly with misuse,
Help
us to find the way to restore beauty to your handiwork.
Great
Spirit, whose creatures are being destroyed,
Help
us to find a way to replenish them.
Great
Spirit, whose gifts to us are being lost in selfishness
and corruption,
Help
us to find the way to restore our humanity.
Author,
Big Thunder (Bedagi),
19th century - Algonquin
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