FOLLOWING THE PATH
        
              This past week I met my old friend, Chief David, a Native
        American who emigrated to Pennsylvania from the west.  Our paths
        cross infrequently and when they do, I am always treated as a
        brother.  
              I asked him what he was currently doing, and he said to me,
        "following the path."  Curious to know what he meant, I asked,
        "and what is that path?"  
              "There are many trails in this life," Chief David said, "but
        the one that matters most, few men are able to walk...It is the
        trail of the true human being."
              I was not sure what he meant by this so I asked if he would
        be willing to explain.
              Chief David was quiet for a moment.  Years ago, I gained his
        trust.  I knew he did not call me "brother" without meaning it. 
        But I was not sure if he would tell me more.  We were sometimes
        isolated from each other by our cultures.  
              His eyes were brilliant as embers in a fire.  When he looked
        at me his stare bore right into my naked soul.  Then he smiled,
        and said quietly, "There are times when we are walking the path
        of life that we must stop and seek the silence and commune with
        the Holy Grandfather.  It is then we should close our eyes and
        see the mirror of our soul, become part of the circle, be in
        harmony with self and all that is around the self.  We must quit
        being selfish and let the Holy Grandfather guide us, that is, if
        we are to walk in the circle of life in peace.  We must learn to
        listen, not just hear; learn to speak, not just talk; learn to
        feel, not just touch."
              Chief David looked away to the sky.  "We must learn to
        listen to the whispering winds, and bend like the willow in the
        wind.  For even the mighty oak can crack and even the sparrow is
        mightier than the hawk at times."
              I wanted to ask him what he meant by what he just said, but
        words escaped me.
              When he pointed to a far off hill, he cautioned, "There are
        times when we are climbing a mountain, and all that we worry
        about is our stumbling feet and hurrying to get to the top.  What
        we should do is stop. Stop and see the splendor of what is around
        and appreciate what is given to us free through creation."
              Then he said something very curious, "Seek and you shall
        find for all answers are within your grasp."
              I couldn't say anything.  I stared at him for a long period
        of time.  He did not speak any more.  I noticed on his wrinkled
        face a delicate moisture somewhat like dew.
              "What is life?" he continued.  "It is the flash of the
        firefly in the inky night.  It is the breath of a buffalo or
        wapiti in the winter air.  It is the little shadow which runs
        across the grass and loses itself on the sunset."
              Minutes dragged along.  The total silence between us was
        palpable.  I could not hear or see anything stirring.  It was as
        if Chief David willed the earth to stop breathing. 
              "Pray with me," he said, looking at me again.  His eyes
        captured my heart and soul.  He touched my left shoulder gently
        with his rugged hand and began saying, "O 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 gifts you have
        given me.  Make my ears sharp to hear your voice.  Make me wise
        so that I can understand what you taught your people many ages
        ago.  Let me learn the lessons you have hidden in every leaf and
        rock.  I seek your strength, not to be greater than my friend,
        but to fight my greatest enemy -- my self.  Make me always ready
        to come to you with clean hands and straight eyes.  So when life
        fades, as the setting sun, may my spirit come to you without
        shame."
              Chief David smiled with a pure heart.  I knew I could not
        force him to continue.  His smile told me that he was finished. 
        I was disappointed but expected it.  Though I was confused I
        accepted the gift of his words without comment, and without
        judgement.
              "I must go," he finally uttered.  "Little Shadow, may your
        spirit soar in freedom, as the hawk and eagle on the winds, as
        you walk the path in the circle of life."
              Turning to me, he raised his right hand as a sign of peace,
        and then just walked away.
              I stood still watching him until he disappeared from my
        sight.  Where there once was silence, I now could hear the
        murmuring October wind and the settling of leaves to the ground. 
        A deer sipped water in a creek nearby unafraid of me.  Our eyes
        connected for a moment, and it knew.  
              For several hours afterward, I did not want to go inside. 
        It was growing cold.  The evening rapidly covered the brilliant
        autumn landscape.  Yet even in the darkness it seemed I could
        still see and hear and feel what Chief David spoke so softly
        about in his prayer. 
              Quietly, I slipped into the darkness passing along the same
        path that Chief David followed a while ago.