The author of the passage clainis that. the liberal Irision of freedojn cannot provide libeIty because that vis joll: ' G. does Dot. tcach cit.izens to care about comtDUUity. InSp¢S moral neutra]ity, which is anti-government. morality. ACT.fiCIE GO ON TO THE NEXT PAGE. Passage 111 it just thc way he did until I met Grarnpa, s younger brothel Jack. many years later, when I was a g.rown an. 'Fitting the ground to plant. That is what Grampa. called il. This is what Jack called it. This is 55 wbzl their f athci, Lcwis Bowuiall, had called it. Fitting thc ground to plant. HUMANITIES: This-passage is adapled Irom Bowm2n's Store., A Jc)uiney lo Myself by Joseph Bruchac {Q1997 by Joseph Bruchac). The aulhor and his grandtather, Jesse Bowman, are Abenaki Indians. rcmembei my grandfather"s garden. It was arourjd back, between my grandparenls, house and ibe srnall two_ioorn building we used foi storing ihings. Another spring day, perhaps a.year l&tei, I was fol- 'lowing my grandfather while he worked in the garden, He had made a small lioe foi me th3t year, and I was, as 60 alivays. trying to do exactly 'what .hc did. Then he stopped hoeing. I stopped too 2nd waited. I remetJJber that I heard a bird sing just tILen,'a long ululating song. Anoiher of. my tarljeRt mcmories is MYaLking 5 through the furroivs of that.newly plowed garden .Wkth .Jny gianéfathéI-wbo seemed taller than Ihe biggest trees thell-holding my hand. I could barely walk, even on level grouJ]d, but he wouldn't let me fall. I WOTe th same kind of overalls that he did, and people were 10 already calling me "Jess, s Shadow., 'Oriolt,' rny grandfathei said. Then he beni o'4-- and picked something up. "He brushed soil from it aDd 65 went down on one knee next to me. That Was how L2wrellce Older put it ollc day when bc was buying gasoline at My grandparènts, fill- ing station, "Jess.,: Larry said.. with a twinkle in his. eye, 'that grandson of YOUTS Stays so close to 5rou he don't 15 hdIY leave. room eiiougb r or your shadow." I. lezned close to look at the dark, blocky piece CL flint that fillcd my grinofathcr, s broad hand. "Indian,; my grandfather said. "Axhe2d, lic hefted it first in onc hand and then the otner. 70 He did it with the same care that my gralldmother used when sbe was gathering eggs in the henhouse and putting them into the basket hung over heT arv.. T.Nen he placcd that axhead into rny.hands. Jess's Shadow? I didn't q]Jite understand that naJ]]e. My. name was SoDny. I.knevi that for sure. Tbal Was the name my g12ndpaTeDts called me by. I never 'heard either Df the Speak to me or about me by any 20 other rian]c. ThiTty years after tiiat day when ]ny gr&n(itainer 75 pui the stone axhead in mv bands, I understood at la£t why, as I held that stone, my mind had fillpd i¥il. Imag¢s of tall coin swaying in the wind, images of women dancing as they held the season's haIiiesi in theil h2llds. Hearing a friend tell the story of tb.e 80 coming of corn was the last stroke of the hoe that fit tny own lljind to tLie eatth.my grandfather had given to me. And I kniÈw that as 3ong as my hands had tbe sttength to hold a hoe, I would work tbat garden where corn had been'c2red for by rriy gr2lldpentS and by my great- 85 grandparents befoic theiJJ. I would" listcll to Lhat land just as it bad ODC¢ been listened to by other mcn and women. generations of Abenaki people and Mohdw people whose storjes were told in a tongue 2s. old as the soil. Spring would find me preparing the earth for the 90 Corn Maiden, find n]c fitting the ground of my grand- father's garden to planL I remember tbe dav-I could not have been rnore than two and a half years old-when my giaodfather said to mc, 'Sonny, cup out yer bands., I..held them out togethcr, trying to make a rcally good cup. Carefully. 25 taking the seeds out hom the cloth sack he had slung over.hig stiouldei, be filled my hands Iviih kernels of golden corll..I stood tbeie holding those seeds foi hitll. watching as hc took them, foul at a timc, to plajjt tbem. "Yer turn now.," he said wlien Ihose seeds were 30 golle. alld he beld out one leathcry hand filled with corn. I'd watched r¢ally Ce!lly, so I knew what to do. I did it so "well thal my grandfather allowed that I Was already betler at it than be was. Then, as I. planted y fust hills of .coEn, he ta]ked to rue about thinEs. He 35 always talkcd more when he was in his gden. Theie in his g2TdeD, as be spaded or began to hoe, be.would talk about the diffeieut plants, about the birds .we heard singing. about bow wc had to watch for tb¢ woodchucks or the rabbits or the raccoons. Sometimes 40 he would talk about the old way of plowing with a ieam of horses. and he would tell me tbe J]all)es of the horses he'd lovcd-the last of them dcad and gonc a decade before I was born. He told me how, as their plows cut .the3r way down into the ricb earth that was the same 45 color as his face, he .and his father used to turn up arrowhcads.
