A story told in meditation by Calling Horse, an ancient Native Indian Chief

In my day, everybody in the tribe had similar possessions. All of us valued cleverly beautifully
made pots, well sewn clothes or tents. Yet, we did not accumulate possessions in the way that people
do these days. In fact, we spent our time travelling from place to place, resting in a camp for a few
weeks and then moving on. We did not need or want more possessions than we could comfortably
carry to the next camping ground.

I can tell you a story about a small family, members of my tribe. There were two children, a
girl and a boy, a mother and her husband, White Feather. The husband broke his leg once in a
hunting accident. He was unable to hunt and move far at all. His wife was very worried about how
they would manage, how would they find food?

In the next tent, lived an old woman, a very skilled potter. She suggested that the husband
learn how to make pots since he could not walk and would not be able to do so for some time. He
readily agreed. He was a quick learner and as his hands were already strong, he found he could
make pots fast and well. He had an artistic eye; hence, he could decorate them beautifully. The old
lady was relieved to have another person to take over her work. She said she was growing too tired
to make pots any more.

Members of the tribe had been accustomed to exchanging food and clothing with the old
woman for her pots. Now they went to White Feather. He paid his teacher well and was also able to
feed his family with the proceeds from the pots. He made enough pots to trade with visiting tribes
for other goods which he needed. Sometimes they did not have exactly what he required, but he
would take what they offered anyway. He knew that he would be able to barter for
what he needed later on.

Every so often, a potlatch (gift-giving feast) was held within the tribe. People would gather
together all the things which they no longer wanted and laid them outside their tents. Others could
come and take what they needed. It would be considered a disgrace to take more than one’s fair
share. People did not try to gather more than it was necessary for them. The potlatch system worked
very well.

One day, at a potlatch, the chief’s wife came to the tent of the little family. She was carrying
a beautiful pot. “I would like you to notice that I have chosen this pot to take home with me today,”
she said. “I have never seen such a beautiful pot, and I am sure your husband made it. I want to say
that I hope he continues to make pots for the tribe even when he can walk properly again. Nobody
makes pots like he does.”

White Feather’s wife was very touched by this. She reported it to her husband.
“Indeed, I will continue to make pots; I find the process very satisfying. I prefer it rather than chasing
and killing animals,” said White Feather, and he was the potter in the tribe for many long years.