11/08/2025
nîtisânak — my little ones — come closer. Let the warmth of the fire wrap around us like a blanket. Tonight, I will tell you the story of Sage, the gentle protector, whose spirit still walks with us in the wind.
Long ago, in the time when the earth was still young, the plants gathered in a great circle. Creator had called them together, for the people were about to walk the earth, and they would need help to live in a good way.
The tall Cedar stood proud. “I will keep them safe in the storms,” Cedar said.
Sweetgrass smiled. “I will remind them of kindness and bring peace to their homes.”
To***co stepped forward. “I will carry their prayers to the sky.”
And then, a small, humble plant spoke. Her leaves were soft and silver-green, and she smelled of earth after rain. “I am Sage,” she said. “I am not tall like Cedar, nor sweet like Sweetgrass. My gift is different. When the people’s hearts grow heavy, when shadows cling to their thoughts, I will come. My smoke will carry away what is not needed, so their spirits can breathe again. I will help them see with clear eyes, and walk with a light heart.”
The other plants nodded, for they knew her gift was precious.
And so it was, nîtisânak, that Sage became the gentle protector of our people. When sickness of the heart or spirit came near, she would be burned in the sacred way, her smoke dancing like soft clouds. She would whisper to the wind, “Carry these burdens away. Make room for hope.”
But Sage had one request of the people:
“Treat me with respect. Do not take more than you need. Offer your thanks before you touch my leaves. And remember — my gift works only when your heart is honest.”
Many moons passed, and generations learned to walk with Sage by their side. Even now, when we hold her in our hands, we remember the promise: to live with respect, to keep our hearts clear, and to protect the circle of life.
So, my little ones, when you see her silver leaves shimmering in the sun, greet her as an old friend. She is still here, watching, guarding, waiting to help when your spirit feels heavy. And if you listen closely, you may hear her whisper:
“I am Sage, and I am here to help you remember who you are.”
êkosi, my children.
—Kanipawit Maskwa
John Gonzalez
Standing Bear Network
