Am I the last to learn
the worth of Little Tree?
How did I reach my great age,
read whole libraries of words
and yet have failed to see
this little treasure of a book?
It’s called the Education
of Little Tree,
in other words, small Cherokee.
It’s full of wit and wisdom
and natural philosophy.
The writer, Forrest Carter.
was a wily two-faced man ─
he joined the Klu Klux Klan.
How could such a one as he
write this tender story
of Little Tree?
My notebook is filling up with little snippets of that wisdom, for example
“Once I spent a whole afternoon collecting some musk bugs, just a few, for they are hard to catch. I took them home to Grandma, as I knew she loved sweet smells …
She was more excited than I was, might near. She said she never smelled anything so sweet and couldn’t figger how she had missed out on knowing about musk bugs.
At the supper table she told Granpa before I could …Granpa was struck dumfounded. I let him smell them and he said he had lived for seventy-odd years total unaware of such a smell.
Granma said I had done right for when you come on something that is good, first thing to do is to share it with whoever you can find; that way, the good spreads out to where no telling it will go, which is right.”
And so I share my discovery with you. There will be more.