In 1854 an American Indian chief in Seattle replies to an offer to buy a large area of land he was living on.
He replied –
How can you buy or sell the sky? The warmth of the land, the idea is strange to us!
If we do not own the freshness of the air
and the sparkle of the water…
How can you buy them?
We don’t own them.
Every part of this earth is sacred to my people,
every shining pine needle
every sandy shore…
Every mist in the dark woods,
every Humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people.
This beautiful Earth is the mother of the red man.
We are part of the earth and it is part of us.
The rivers are our brothers;
we give the rivers the kindness we would give to any brother.
But the white man does not understand our ways.
He is a stranger who takes from the land whatever he needs.
The earth is not his brother but his enemy and when he has conquered it he moves on.
He kidnaps the earth from his children and he does not care.
I do not know!
Our ways are different from your ways……….
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