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Personal Metaphor
I am a indian. As the sun comes up, the male indian gets up from beneath a deerskin blanket. He could hear young men learning how to hunt and the young women learning cook and ect. As he opens up the tp door the sun hits him the face just like it did every morning. He walked out and stood there for a second to embrace the morning glory and as he did everyone greeted him. He went in search of some berries for breakfast, as he did hear many familiar sounds like birds chirping, bees buzzing, and the breeze blowin such cooling wind. When he came back the women already had a fire and a grinder to mash up the berries to make a drink and the rest of the berries would be used to make a other things. After breakfast they all passed the pipe around and shared gratefulness of the breakfast he got and thanks to the gods for meal they help him find. The people respected him with such great power because of the fact he was the chief and knew what was best for his people. After the shared the pipe the chief said “ now that we shared the pipe we are even more closer together and every time we smoke we will get a little more closer with every puff we breath.” “We are indians and our bond is tighter than the skins we make our stuff out of is, we are both blood brothers and real brothers, you are my people, forever we trust.” I am a indian.
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