Silly Woodchuck
Long ago, in the Arizona desert, there lived a wise old Hopi chief named Silver Horse. Silver Horse had only two sons. The oldest son was named Fighting Eagle and he wore a headband with two feathers. The youngest son was named Silly Woodchuck and he wore a headband with only one feather in it. They were both very strong and brave young men. However, only Fighting Eagle could be the next chief of the tribe. Silly Woodchuck was not happy for his brother’s good fortune. Instead, Silly Woodchuck was very jealous and hated his brother.
One day, after hunting, Silly Woodchuck watched his brother from behind a tree. He had seen Fighting Eagle making a pot to hold water. It was the most beautiful pot Silly Woodchuck had ever seen. It was painted with bright colors and the handle was shaped like a heart.
Fighting Eagle was finished making the pot and set it in the sun to dry. He then ran to the fields to do some more hunting before night could fall.
Silly Woodchuck came out from behind the tree to have a better look at the pot. It was even more beautiful up close. He became quite angry with his brother. “Why should Fighting Eagle always have nicer things than I? It’s just not fair!” he exclaimed to himself. “My pot is cracked and has no handle, while his is beautiful and unbroken. I’ll show him!” Silly Woodchuck picked up the pot and threw it on the ground breaking it into little peices. He ran home quickly before anybody could see what he had done.
The next day, Silly Woodchuck passed his brother again. This time, Fighting Eagle was weaving a rug. It was a strong, thick, and beautiful rug with a design of hearts and flowers.
Again, Silly Woodchuck hid behind that same tree and waited for his brother to leave. When Fighting Eagle left, Silly Woodchuck quickly ran to the rug and ripped it into tiny shreds. He ran home after he was done.
The next day Silly Woodchuck passed his brother, he had seen Fighting Eagle making a new pair of moccasins. Silly Woodchuck hid behind the tree again to spy on his brother. After Fighting Eagle finished making the moccasins, he painted a red heart on the top of each one. He then left the moccasins and ran to the fields to hunt.
Silly Woodchuck looked at the beautiful moccasins and then dug a hole to bury them in. After they were buried, he ran home.
The next day came and Silly Woodchuck walked towards his brother’s home again. This time, Fighting Eagle was waiting for his brother. “Good morning, Silly Woodchuck.” he said.
“Good morning, Fighting Eagle.” Silly Woodchuck replied. “How are you?”
“I am very sad.” Fighting Eagle said as he held his head low.
“What has made you so sad, my brother?” asked Silly Woodchuck.
Fighting Eagle forced himself to look at his brother in the eyes. “I know it is your birthday today, Silly Woodchuck, and I have nothing to give you to prove my love for you. I had made a pot for you, but it was shattered. I made a rug for you, but it was ripped to shreds. I made a pair of moccasins for you, but I can not find them. The only thing I have left to give you is my headband, which will make you the next chief of the tribe.” Fighting Eagle took off his headband and held it out to his brother.
Silly Woodchuck began to cry. “No, brother. I can not take your headband. It was I who destroyed your wonderful presents. I became a jealous and greedy coward who does not deserve to become the chief of our tribe.”
Fighting Eagle placed the headband back on his own head and said, “You may have been jealous and greedy, Silly Woodchuck, but you are no coward. It takes a brave man to admit to his wrongdoings. Let’s go. You and I can make more presents, together.”
Silly Woodchuck gave his brother a big hug and the two of them made presents which were even more beautiful than the ones before. From that day on, Silly Woodchuck was never jealous of his brother again. He learned how to share, and became a fine man who taught others to not be envious of what they don’t have, but to rejoice in the love they are able to share with others. That is, after all, the greatest gift of all.
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