DallasNews.com reports that an Oregon rancher has donated a white buffalo calf and mother to symbolically replace the pair killed recently in Texas.
“DALLAS — An Oregon peacemaker said she’s so upset by the apparent slaughter of a rare white buffalo calf —deemed “the hope of all nations” by a Lakota Sioux rancher last year — that her organization is donating a white buffalo bull from its herd.
Arby Little Soldier, who owns the Lakota Ranch near the North Texas town of Greenville, said he had hoped the 3,000-pound gift would arrive during a memorial celebration this weekend that was initially intended to celebrate Lightning Medicine Cloud’s first birthday, which was May 12. The calf was found dead nearly two weeks ago.”
Dreaming the World 
Peace provides the way for healing and a new vision of reconcilliation. . .
I would most humbly disagree with Little Soldier’s comment that the tremendous gift he is receiving from Oregon (Hiawatha) is of less ‘spiritual significance’ because he was ‘bred to be a white buffalo’.
I have personal knowledge of Hiawatha’s lineage, and met the white buffalo matriarch Miracle Moon when she was pregnant with her first (turned out to be also a white buffalo) calf. Miracle Moon is now a grandmother. There are three generations of white buffalo – all 100% North American Bison – that have come through her. The caretakers do not breed them to be white buffalo. In fact, the Rileys had no clue that the brown buffalo that gave birth to Miracle Moon was carrying such a treasure. Both the mother and the father of Miracle Moon were, in fact, BROWN buffalo. Miracle Moon got her name from her birth circumstances. It is a miracle she even survived. When she was born, she was flung into the air by a bull who was in the pasture. It was the quick actions of Jim who saved her life. He drove the ATV he was on in between the bull and the baby. So indeed, it was a miracle that she survived. It is an ongoing miracle that these beautiful white buffalo continue to be born. It is a sign of hope and healing, in my opinion. The fact that this incredible gift came to the land of a wasichu does not diminish the spiritual sigificance of her appearance. This time, the White Buffalo has come to the people, and is saying it is for ALL people. That the Sacred World Peace Alliance would reach out with compassion and give such an incredible gift to Little Soldier speaks to the great heart of Dena Riley. That it would be accepted, but with reservation, speaks loudly also. Does that mean, should Hiawatha produce a white calf on Little Soldier’s land, that that calf is of ‘less spiritual significance’ as well? Can you not just say pilamaye wakantanka?
I am grateful for the gift. However, I am also aware that the dead calf and mother cannot be replaced. Nor does the gift in any way undue the crime.
We are Lakota on my father’s side, yet I do not pretend to understand the full significance of White Buffalo Calf Woman and her prophesy. We shall see how all of this plays out. Perhaps there are forces at work we cannot yet know.
I agree that it doesn’t fix this, but what a moving gift!
Well, you definitely inspired me to write, so I have nominated you for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award. I will be posting the nominations on my blog shortly. It will be interesting to see how the murder of those precious beings plays out. I was certainly not diminishing the tragedy. When I heard of it, I wept, for it says much about where the consciousness is. I will say that I am not as Native American as some, either (Cherokee on father’s side). Nor would I even presume to begin to understand White Buffalo Calf Pipe Woman and her prophesy. It just saddens me still, the healing that is left to be done. And sometimes I wonder if it ever will be. That is all. Thank you for sharing the article. I was only aware of the tragedy, not of the gift.
Thank you for your thoughts, and for the nomination. I am honored.
I have been writing a good deal lately about issues of identity, and the ways colonial culture distorts and undermines it. One of the very odd things folks do is to argue about who is or is not Indian. That is a relatively new, very colonial, discussion. Traditionally most tribes were inclusive, warmly welcoming outsiders who honestly wanted to be actively useful in the community. The English form of governance and, more recently, casino moneys have changed this. So now we compare blood quantum….. I find this profoundly saddening.
I hope my writing engages folks in thinking about issues of identity and community. Mostly I don’t have answers. Often I am searching for ways to be inclusive. Always I seek to honor the Creator, Ancestors, and Spirits. I don’t always succeed at that. Often my grief, and sometimes my rage, get in the way. I am always grateful to those who stop by this blog and post thoughtful, heartfelt responses, as you have. I hope you will continue to speak here.
Michael Watson, LCMHC JourneyWorks 11 Kilburn Street Burlington, VT 05401 802-860-6203 http://journeyworksvt.com https://michaelwatsonvt.wordpress.com/
I will be back. Over 20 years ago, at the time of my awakening, I had an experience where I ‘connected’ with a being I knew from a former lifetime when we were both Native American. At the end of our encounter, this being said to me: “It matters not whether they have red hearts in white bodies, or white hearts in red bodies. It only matters that in their hearts they carry the desire to return Home…” He was explaining to me why we were on different sides of the veil, and also why I was born in the white world this time, even though my visions and encounters with spirit were Native in nature. I pray daily for peace. It breaks my heart to feel what comes at me sometimes because of the color of my skin. And yet, I will also say members of the Lakota people have also been part of the healing of that pain. Grandma Cora Redhair honored me by approving me to make the gifts for a Sundancers final year giveaway. She liked the energy so much, she kept one of the pieces for herself. I miss her wonderful spirit, and give thanks for having been able to touch even just the very edges of her life. We never met in person. She only knew me through the bags I made for a channupa she was presented with, and the things I made for the giveaway. Yet she could feel the energy, and after all that is the part that matters. The energy. The spirit. Thank you, Grandma, for helping soothe my pain. Thank you for your kind words.
Thank you, Michael, for the heart in your words. Their honesty and depth brings me back here again and again. . .