Thursday, June 28, 2007

A Story My Dad Told

We didn't have television when I was young and we heard very little radio. I do remember listening to the radio when our President John F. Kennedy was shot. My sisters and I cried while we listened as I am sure the rest of our world did. I cried some more when I saw the pictures of his family and his casket. Didn't we all love them? I loved that family. Picture is of some Irish women thrilled to greet our Irish-American President while he visited in Ireland.

Anyway, there really was not all that much to do in the village after school was out for the day. Do our chores and read. I don't know how kids can even have time to learn today with their cell phones, iPods, computers, television, new movies - which can be downloaded and watched on computers and iPods! The opportunities of busyness on the web is amazing! (MySpace, Bebo, chat rooms, blogging!) So when do they study?

Back to my childhood. I had books. I had the occasional opportunity to see Life or Look magazines with their photos to the outside world. I loved reading them and would sit and stare at the pictures so long. I can remember sitting and looking at the magazines with my sisters.

Check out the links for more old pictures and you can even order old magazines! They must be reprints.

Sometimes in those days Dad would tell stories that he grew up hearing. I wish I would have listened and wrote down what he said, but I didn't. I want to share this one that I can remember. The story had a moral to it and I am sharing it as I remember it.

Once there was a young man a long time ago. He was very big, and he was very strong. He always would win the other boys in the village at everything. Arm wrestling. Lifting heavy fishing nets. Carrying big, heavy logs. Whatever it was, he was so strong and everyone grew to know that.

As time goes by he begins to let his incredible strength go to his head and starts to strut around being the big guy.

The time this story happened was when the tides went way out. The men would go hunting for octopus then. They would find their dens in big rocks when the tide got low enough. Octopus was a delicacy and they were sought after with great anticipation when tides went way out.

The men carried long poles with them. When they found a den, they would put the poles into the den and pull out the octopus all together. Because octopus are strong and several men are needed to pull them out of their dens. They put the pole in and the octopus will wind his arms around the pole after being jabbed a few times and then they pull him out.

This day they found a big den and a big octopus. Several men jabbed in there and said, "Oh! This is a BIG octopus!"

The young man could see the octopus that they already had found and thought to himself, "I am much stronger than that!"

He told the men, "let me pull it out with my own arm!"

"Duh wuh!" the older men said. "No! You can't do that."

He insisted and the men stepped aside.

He got down onto his knees and then stuck his arm way down into the den totally covering up the den; all the way up to his shoulder. He felt around and then told the other men that he could feel it. He told them it was wrapping its' arms around his own arm. He waited. When he felt it was hooked to his arm really good he tried to pull. He could not pull one inch! No matter how he tried he could not pull his arm back out. The other men tried to but could not help him. When the tide began rushing back in they had to leave him there.

The moral of that story goes to show that one should not think himself to be so good or so much better at knowing things that you can't listen to the older and the wiser among you. You must listen to the words of those that have lived longer than you and be wise from them or bad things like this will probably happen to you.

Hope you enjoyed that memory I had of my Dad's story telling.

The picture of Old Harbor is from the National Geographic Photo Gallery. National Geographic Photo of Old Harbor.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

It's a nice story to teach our kids not to be big head. The moral of the story is like a Chinese saying: There's always another mountain higher than a mountian." - meaning there's always someone who is wiser, better, bigger than you.

Connie Marie said...

Hi abel,

I agree, this moral is a very good one that we all need to remember. Not only when dealing with strength but even with knowledge.

Thanks for visiting my blog, I hope you come again. :-)

Kerri said...

My Yaya used to tell me stories like that. I could sit for hours and just listen. As long as he was willing to talk, I was willing to hear his stories. A lot of them he told in our language and I'm so out of practice now, I'm not sure I could understand as much as I once did. I know I can't speak it fluently. Just a few words.

Anyway, thanks for sharing the story and reminding me of my own childhood. :o) HUGS

Connie Marie said...

Cool Kerrie! You should share the stories he told you, I would like to read them.

You are the same as I am with Alutiiq. When I lived with Mom and Dad I could understand what they were talking about even if I could not speak it (apart from a few short words/phrases). I guess I never wanted to try to speak it because I would be ridiculed as so many times people do in villages and don't we giggle and laugh when our young kids can't say words we tell them to. Like right now, my Grandson Calvin always finishes his food and then says, "All dumb" for all done. hehehe

Anyway, I should not have been so proud when I was a youngster and just plunged in an learned how to speak my language, now I am the worse for it.

Have a beautiful day (((((Kerrie))))

TO BECOME said...

I loved your Dad story. It is so true and I thank you for sharing it as well as those memories from your childhood. I love the song you have playing. Connie Marie I hope you and your family have a wonderful fourth of July. connie from Texas

Connie Marie said...

Thoughtful Connie, you are back! (I like that blogging name for you since I have two Connie from Texas friends.)

I hope you had a happy, fun rest with your favorite man.

I am glad that you enjoyed my last post story. I love the song too. His Truth IS marching on.

God bless your holiday, Thoughtful Connie. HUGs