Get the printable version of this page.
Annie’s Navajo world was good---a world of rippling sand, of high copper-red bluffs in the distance, of the low mesa near her own snug hogan.
When the evening meal was done, the old grandmother called her family together.
Grandmother said, "My children, when the new rug is taken from the loom, I will go to Mother Earth."
"You will choose the gift that you wish to have."
As Annie jogged past the spot where the teacher’s shoes lay on the ground, she picked up a shoe and hid it in the folds of her dress.
She tugged at the sleeping sheep until one stood quietly. Then the others stood also, uncertain-shoving together.
"My granddaughter," she said, "You have tried to hold back time. This cannot be done."
Annie picked up the old weaving stick. She said to her mother, "I will use the stick that my grandmother has given me."