Braiding Sweetgrass

ceremonies to honor the cycle of the seasons, where “the words
that come before all else” are spoken. He spoke for a long time
about the Thanksgiving Address as the core of Mohawk relationship
to land. I remembered a question that had long been on my mind.
At the end of the words that come before all else, when thanks
have been given to all the beings of the land, I asked, “has the land
ever been known to say thank you in reply?” Tom was quiet for a
second, piled more pancakes on my plate, and set the syrup jug in
front of me. That’s as good an answer as I know.
From a drawer in the table Tom took out a bag of fringed
buckskin and laid a piece of soft deerskin on the table. He poured
onto it a rattling pile of smooth peach seeds, one side painted
black, the other white. He drew us into the gambling game,
guessing how many pits in each throw will be white and how many
black. His pile of winnings mounded up while ours dwindled. While
we shook the pits and threw them down he told me about the time
this game was played for very high stakes.
The twin grandsons of Skywoman had long struggled over the
making and unmaking of the world. Now their struggle came down
to this one game. If all the pits came up black, then all the life that
had been created would be destroyed. If all the pits were white,
then the beautiful earth would remain. They played and played
without resolution and finally they came to the final roll. If all came
up black, it would be done. The twin who made sweetness in the
world sent his thoughts out to all the living beings he had made and
asked them to help, to stand on the side of life. Tom told us how in
the final roll, as the peach stones hung for a moment in the air, all
the members of Creation joined their voices together and gave a
mighty shout for life. And turned the last pit white. The choice is
always there.