How My Spirit Guide Proved He Was Real

HOW GRANDFATHER COYOTE PROVED HE WAS REAL...

(at least, as real as a spirit guide can be!!!)

One day, I went to see Grandfather Coyote at his cabin in the Spirit World. He was making something out of rabbit skins (I guess they hunt even in the spirit world...or maybe they just think the skins up if they want them; but that is another story!). I sat down cross-legged beside him, content to just watch him, knowing that if there was going to be a lesson today, Grandfather would get around to it eventually.

I guess I should tell you a little about Grandfather. He lives in a hand-built cabin beside the Colorado River; he is the Guardian Spirit of the River. He is pretty mad about what has been done to the Colorado-water has been taken from it to supply places in California, and the river is not what it used to be. His cabin sits on a little piece of shore, upstream from some rapids that gurgle in the distance. His cabin is decorated with all sorts of things- Dream Catchers he has made; carvings of animals and people from his life on Earth; wooden dishes and utensils and tools; wonderful woven carpets and mats made of straw- in short, all the things one would expect an old American Indian to have in his place of residence. I met him because of my other Spirit Guide, Shadowwolf. Shadowwolf and I go way back. He is an Arctic Wolf, silvery and large and beautiful. He has protected me since I was a little girl. I used to ride on his back, away from my tormentors, and he would run and run. Often, he would dig a snow den, and he and I would curl up together to sleep away the time...until it was safe for me to come back to the real world. (I was abused, you see.) One day, Shadowwolf took me to see Grandfather, and I guess the old guy liked me, for he invited me back “anytime”.

Now, I always thought that perhaps all of this was just my imagination. I meditate, going “down way deep”- and then I travel to all sorts of places. When I was a little girl, I could actually leave my body to do this, and I did it often. As I got older, though, I found that the only way I could “travel” was through deep meditation.

So...back to my story...I was sitting by Grandfather, waiting for him to speak. He seemed thoughtful and was concentrating hard on what he was making, so I did not interrupt. My legs felt like they were going to sleep when he finally grunted in satisfaction, and put his project aside.

“So, Jai, are you ready for some news?”

“News?”

“Yes. I thought you'd like to know that you are connected to the Lakota Indians.”

“Connected? What does that mean?”

“You are Lakota, at least in spirit.”

I thought about this. “Grandfather, you know I am Norwegian and German. I have blonde hair and blue eyes, and so does everyone else in my family! Nobody has said anything about any Indian ancestry!”

“You think I lie?”

Grandfather would never lie...

“No, but...You are going to have to explain this to me!”

“It is through your German Grandmother Hartley, to your Great-Grandmother Gorr, her mother. Start with your Grandmother. Ask her about 'the Indians'”.

And he would say no more.

When I left the spirit world, I thought about what I knew about my Grandmother and her family. They emigrated from Germany around 1900 or so, and took advantage of the Homesteading Act. They received a farm in South Dakota, where my Grandmother was born. Hmmmm, South Dakota. I Googled the Lakota Indians, and found out that they have a reservation very near to where my Grandmother spent her early years.

I called my mother, and asked her if Grandma had ever talked about any Indians.

“No, “she said.

I am fortunate that my Grandmother is still alive and well in a nursing home in Illinois-she was 100 this past May, I asked my Mom if she would call Grandma, and ask her about “the Indians.” Luckily, my Mom agreed. I had aroused her curiosity as well as my own. This is what Grandma had to say:

Near their farm was a reservation of Indians. My Great-Grandmother spoke not a word of English, but she knew the Indians were hungry and poor, and often made them bread and other food, which they would pick up from her about once a week. They all would smile and nod at each other, and the Indians would go off, clutching the precious food.

One day, the Indians arrived unannounced. It seemed that they had gifts for my Great-Grandmother Gorr. Because they could not speak to each other, the gifts were understood to be only a thank-you for all the food that Great-Grandma had made for them. After this, my Grandmother and her brothers and sisters (there were eleven of them!) were welcome at all the Lakota ceremonies and especially the dances (as Grandma called them). They would sneak out into the night, and would sit in the circle with the Indians, and the men would dance and sing. Grandma said it was quite something.

I have a Sioux Indian friend named Black Rock. I told Black Rock about this, and Black Rock was astonished!

“No way would any Native Americans of that time allow any white people to their ceremonies and dances. No way! It just was not done.”

“But Grandma went to those dances. She was welcome!”

“Well,” he said, thinking. “Did the Lakota ever give your Grandma's family any special gifts?'

“Yes!” I replied. I told him about the gifts that were given to Great-Grandma after she had donated all that food to the Lakota. I told him about the language barrier, and that Grandma had said there was a lot of nodding and smiles all around.

Black Rock smiled, and then laughed.

“Do you know what the Lakota did when they gave your Great-Grandmother those gifts?” he asked.

“No- of course not!”

“I believe they made your Grandmother's family a part of their Tribe. I am sure that they gave her the “credentials” of “membership” to their tribe. That is why all the children were now welcome at the ceremonial dances.”

“So, what you are saying is that Great-Grandma Gorr was now a Lakota...”

“Yes, in spirit. They may have actually registered your family...but you said there was a language problem?”

“Yep. Great-Grandma only spoke German and Yiddish.”

“Well, then. Believe me, there just is no way your grandmother and her brothers and sisters could have been welcome at their ceremonies any other way. Not back in 1920 or so!”

I looked into this. There was a great deal of prejudice against Native Americans at that time. People thought that they were “primitive” and “dirty”. Their practices were considered barbaric.

So that is how Grandfather Coyote proved to me that he was a real being, living in a real place in the spirit world.

I suppose this all sounds rather incredible. But it is true.

Aho,

Jaianniah