Crone of night, in thy abode,
Touch the spirit grown cold.
Hear my prayer, hear my plea,
Send my spirit back to me.
Help me see where I've gone wrong,
Make me wise and make me strong.
Give me wisdom, give me strength,
Lend your powers to me at length.
By: Roslyn Reid
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A spider was quietly spinning his web in his own space. It was beside the sleeping space of Nokomis, the grandmother. Each day, Nokomis watched the spider at work, quietly spinning away. One day as she was watching him, her grandson came in. "Nokomis-iya!" he shouted, glancing at the spider. He stomped over to the spider, picked up a shoe and went to hit it.
"No-keegwa," the old lady whispered, "don't hurt him."
Nokomis, why do you protect the spider? asked the little boy.
The old lady smiled, but did not answer. When the boy left, the spider went to the old woman and...