Saturday, March 26, 2011
Squanto, the little Indian
Squanto was a small Indian whose company everyone enjoyed. He liked to run, to play with animals and to fish. He would only hunt when he was hungry because he avoided causing other creatures to suffer.
He normally ate roots, herbs or berries that he gathered from the woods.
He loved the sun, the moon, the wind, the rain and especially other creatures. When he found a wounded creature, he would not rest until he saw the animal was healed.
Once, returning from a walk in the woods, Squanto saw a bird caught in a trap, with a broken wing. He pulled the bird from the trap and immobilize the bird’s wing with plant fiber. The bird was healed within days. It the left, singing the joy of being able to fly again.
On that same day, Squanto decided to walk in search of edible roots. He found his friend Mr. Bunny, who was trapped with a bruised paw. The Indian boy put a paste made with herbs on the wound, as his grandfather had taught him. The rabbit began jumping around not long before that. He turned around as if to say, before getting back into the forest:
—Thanks, Squanto. You're a great pal!
On the next morning, he went fishing. Squanto suddenly heard a painful moaning. It was a leopard lying in a pit trap. The animal got injured in the fall.
Squanto put a bandage on the wound and soon the leopard ran happily through the forest, very grateful for the help.
Squanto, however, was worried.
Who would put those traps in the forest? He felt afraid.
His grandfather had always said he should be very careful with the white man who was evil and would kill without mercy, for the pleasure of killing.
So, Squanto was very afraid of white men.
Actually, he had never seen a white man. He imagined them to be huge, terrible and frightening.
Thus, when he found different footprints on the ground, he concluded that the white man was there. He was now terrified.
He told what was happening to the people in his village. All the other Indians were scared too. They decided to go out and look for this evil creature that was making all residents of the forest feel panicked.
They searched for a long time...
They were tired of walking when they heard a voice shouting:
—Help! Help! Get me out of here! ...
They followed the sound of the voice and came to the brink of a big hole. There was a man moaning in pain at the bottom of this place.
The Indians felt frightened, but also shouted satisfied, holding bows and arrows:
—We caught him! Let's finish him!
Squanto always had a kind sensitive heart. He then thought, seeing that creature moaning in pain:
"But he does not look terrible and frightening as I thought. He is just like us; only his clothes are different. "
He then turned to his friends and said:
—We can’t kill him. Dont’ you realize that he is a creature like us, who suffers and cries? Come on, help me get him out of the hole. He is hurt and needs help.
The Indians withdrew the hunter carefully, with the help of a vine. They placed him on the grass under the shade of a tree.
The hunter was thrilled; he couldn’t stop thanking them:
- If it wasn’t for you, I would probably die in that hole. I do not know how to thank you. I realize now the evil that I did by putting all those traps in the forest. I ended up falling into one of them and thank God you have saved me. How can I repay the good you did to me?
Squanto replied, as the spokesman of the whole tribe:
— It's easy. Do not put any more traps in the forest. Leave the animals alone.
The hunter felt ashamed; he agreed with them:
—I'll never do it again, I promise. I now know I got what I deserved. Each one of us is responsible for everything we do. I deserved this lesson. Forgive me. I want to be friends.
The Indians extended their hands in friendship, as they realized the man’s sincerity. They then took him to the Indian village.
They prepared a great party to celebrate the event, on that day.
We are all brothers, after all!
Source: O Consolador – Weekly Spiritist Magazine
Author: Célia Xavier Camargo
Translation: Carolina von Scharten, London, linked to BUSS - The British Union of Spiritist Societies
Thanks Carolina Von Scharten