Treasury of American Indian TalesRessler, Theodore Whitson
General
Treasury of American Indian Tales
Ressler, Theodore Whitson
Indians of North America -- Folklore; Indians of North America -- Juvenile literature
One day as Little Rabbit was seated in front of his home, his father was
returning from the garden. As he came to where Little Rabbit was seated,
he stopped and spoke gently.
“Why do you sit here so sad and forlorn, my son? Always you have been
gay and happy, but lately you have become quiet and sad. Tell your
father what it is that troubles you.”
And so Little Rabbit explained that because he could not keep up with
them in the games of speed and skill, the other boys no longer invited
him to play.
“My son, if you are going to sit here and let your life pass you by
because your leg will not obey every command it is given, you will soon
become very unhappy and bitter. You will be of no use to anyone, even
yourself. You must turn your thoughts to other things. If you cannot run
fast, you must practice. If you cannot jump, you must practice.”
“I have tried, my father, but it seems to do no good. My leg is strong,
but the way it is twisted causes me to limp. If I try to run my leg
bends under me. I have tried day after day but it is of no use.”
“You cannot sit here and think of the world as a sad, unhappy place.
Such thoughts will make your leg feel even more twisted than it really
is. You must be thankful for your opportunity to raise yourself to be
more than just an ordinary Indian brave. You have a battle inside
yourself now that calls for great courage and wisdom. How you will
overcome it I do not know, but you must try, my son.”
That night Little Rabbit could not go to sleep because he was thinking
about what his father had said. Maybe he had not been working hard
enough to make his leg do what he commanded. Tomorrow he would try
harder.
And so every day Little Rabbit practiced very hard. For many hours each
week, he would exercise his leg. Finally one day he awoke feeling strong
and fit. After breakfast he went forth from his home to find his friends
for a game. When he located them, they were beginning a foot race which
would take them around the village. Without waiting to be asked, Little
Rabbit trotted into line just as the race started. The other boys were
off to a big lead, but that didn’t worry Little Rabbit. He remembered
what his father had said and, with each running step, he repeated the
words, “I must try.”
The race was going strong. Soon, to his own surprise, Little Rabbit
began to pass the other boys one after another. What he had lost in
ability, he made up in stamina—the strength to go on and on. His many
days of practice were now proving valuable. As the other boys began to
tire and drop back, Little Rabbit passed the leading young brave. Then
he began to widen the gap between himself and the next runner until
nearly one hundred paces separated him from the second place runner when
he crossed the finish line.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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