Vol. 9, No. 5

July, 1972

STUFF ABOUT THINGS

There was this Indian who just would not be “reconstructed” to the new ways. His friends drove new pickups over the Interstate, but he rode his pony up the dry wash. They lived in new government housing, but he stayed with his Hogan — taking beams and rocks from abandoned Hogans to enlarge the shelter for his “stuff. “ And how the neighbors laughed at the collection. He cared not at all for the “in” thing, but traded new Levi’s, obtained from the post, for old worn-out buck-skins — storing these as carefully as others did new suits, and seemed just as proud of them. He would work for a week to make a new katchina doll, then trade it to some child for her old broken one, made by her grandfather — and stack it with his other “treasures.” No wonder they called him “Crazy.” His cache was an unknown cave, somewhere back in the hills. No one bothered to look for it for everyone knew it held nothing but shells, bits of petrified wood or beads which the Indians once used for coin. While others tended cattle or worked the arid land, “Crazy Charlie” hunted for arrowheads, soapstone pipes, scrapers, or anything out of the past. Other Indians laughed and wagged

their heads when Charlie talked about retiring on his “treasures.” His coin was not “current,” they said. But Charlie had learned that today‘s gold is not necessarily the gold of tomorrow. What a shame, what a shame, that Charlie’s perception was not applied to something other than material wealth. The white man who thoughtlessly robbed his ancestor’s grave could have taught him that tomorrow’s gold remains behind, and does not accompany the spirit to eternity. So, “Crazy Charlie” opened a chain of stores handling Indian Artifacts. He made a pile of bread selling old jewelry, ancient ollas, corn grinders, etc. Worn-out buck-skins brought a fortune on the New York market; and the katchinas, made by early Medicine men, were priceless. I would like to report that Charlie died a happy man: but this tall tale will sound more real if he spent his last days wishing he could again ride the dry wash and live in his mud-plastered Hogan. For life’s greatest treasures are in the getting, not in the having. And if we have not provided for eternity, even great getting is an empty, meaningless “trip.” (Matt. 6: 19-34) [Previous Article] [Volume 9, No. 6]

	Created on 14-Nov-00	Page last updated