08/12/2025
Long ago, there was a small boy named Wâpikwani, whose name meant little flower. He liked to run fast through the meadow, chase the clouds, and ask many questions.
One day, he came to sit beside his kôhkom, who was watching the sun sink low in the sky. She sat so still, her eyes soft and warm like the evening light.
“Kôhkom,” Wâpikwani asked, “what is forever?”
His grandmother smiled and patted the ground next to her. “Sit here, my little flower, and I will show you.”
They listened together. They heard the river talking to the stones. They felt the wind brush their cheeks. They smelled the sweet scent of the grass as it swayed.
“Do you feel that?” she whispered. “This is forever. It is not far away in the future or hidden in the past. It is here, right now. In your breath. In the songs of the birds. In the way the sun touches the water.”
Wâpikwani thought for a moment. “So forever is not just a long, long time?”
Kôhkom shook her head gently. “Forever is a circle, and we are inside it. Every laugh you laugh, every hug you give, every step you take on this earth—it is part of that circle. If you are paying attention, you can feel forever in every heartbeat.”
The boy looked around. The world seemed brighter, and he felt something big and gentle holding him—like the whole sky had wrapped him in a blanket.
And from that day on, Wâpikwani tried to notice forever every time he played, every time he listened, every time he loved.
Because now he knew—forever wasn’t somewhere else. It was already here.
—Kanipawit Maskwa
John Gonzalez
Standing Bear Network