There was grandfather, his little grandson often came

in the evenings to sit at his knee and ask the many

questions that children ask. One day the grandson

came to his grandfather with a look of anger on his face.

Grandfather said, “Come, sit, tell me what has happened

today.” The child sat and leaned his chin on his

grandfather’s knee. Looking up into the wrinkled, nut

brown face and the kind dark eyes; the child’s anger

turned to quiet tears.

The boy said, “I went to the town today, with my father,

to trade the furs he has collected over the past several

months. I was happy to go, because father said that

since I had helped him with the trapping, I could get

something for me. Something that I wanted.

I was so excited to be in the trading post, I have not

been there before. I looked at many things and finally

found a metal knife! It was small, but a good size for

me, so father got it for me.”

Here the boy laid his head against his grandfather’s

knee and became silent. The grandfather, softly placed

his hand on the boy’s raven hair and said, “And then

what happened?”.

Without lifting his head, the boy said, “I went outside

to wait for father, and to admire my new knife in the

sunlight. Some town boys came by and saw me, they got

all around me and starting saying bad things. They

called me dirty and stupid and said that I should not

have such a fine knife. The largest of these boys,

pushed me back and I fell over one of the other boys.

I dropped my knife and one of them snatched it up and

they all ran away, laughing.” Here the boy’s anger

returned, “I hate them, I hate them all!”

The grandfather, with eyes that have seen too much,

lifted his grandson’s face so his eyes looked into the

boy’s. Grandfather said, “let me tell you a story. I

too, at times, have felt a great hate for those that

have taken so much, with no sorrow for what they do.

But hate wears you down, and does not hurt your enemy.

It is like taking poison and wishing your enemy would

die. I have struggled with these feelings many times.

It is as if there are two wolves inside me, one is

white and one is black.

The White Wolf is good and does no harm. He lives in

harmony with all around him and does not take offense

when no offense was intended. But it will only fight

when it is right to do so, and in the right way.

But, the Black Wolf, is full of anger. The littlest

thing will set him into a fit of temper. He fights

everyone, all the time, for no reason. He cannot

think because his anger and hate are so great. It

is helpless anger, for his anger will change nothing.

Sometimes it is hard to live with these two wolves

inside me, for both of them try to dominate my spirit.”

The boy, looked intently into his grandfather’s eyes,

and asked “which one wins, Grandfather?”

The grandfather, smiled and said, “The one I feed.”

— Unknown

– Author Unknown