Native American Prayer

Native American Prayer

Oh, Great Spirit
Whose voice I hear in the winds,
And whose breath gives life to all the world,
hear me, I am small and weak,
I need your strength and wisdom.
Let me walk in beauty and make my eyes ever behold
the red and purple sunset.
Make my hands respect the things you have
made and my ears sharp to hear your voice.
Make me wise so that I may understand the things
you have taught my people.
Let me learn the lessons you have
hidden in every leaf and rock.

I seek strength, not to be greater than my brother,
but to fight my greatest enemy – myself.
Make me always ready to come to you
with clean hands and straight eyes.
So when life fades, as the fading sunset,
my Spirit may come to you without shame.

(translated by Lakota Sioux Chief Yellow Lark in 1887)

I was thinking about my sister today and found this at Sideon’s Sanctuary.

What does this have to do with a Viking-American (horns on my colander) person? Well, my sister married a Ute tribal member several years ago. I have 5 nieces and nephews that are half Native American.

September, my sister, and Wayne, her husband, play the Native American flute at powwows and other functions. We talk once in awhile. For some reason, she thinks that we have little in common because I have traveled the world and she stayed on the reservation. But, we still talk.

I was born on a small reservation in Bella Coola Canada. I was the only white-skinned baby in the hospital there. When I ask why I was born in a reservation hospital, my parents said that it was the closest one around. Most of the white-skinned residents would go down to Vancouver and stay a few days, waiting for the birth of their children.. My parents couldn’t afford it.

Anyway, a small dark child was born within minutes of me. The child was left at the hospital, her mother walking out soon after she was born. The medical staff offered the baby to my parents. My mother said no. I was her first child. She felt that it was hard enough with one baby.

Sometimes, I feel that part of my soul is missing. I wonder if my twin born of another mother is still alive.


About Cyn Bagley

My life is a mixture of travel, jobs, and disease. You can find some of my novels on under the name Cyn Bagley.
This entry was posted in Essays, Misc.. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s