One of the things I've been taught by Native American elders is the importance of patience, of waiting to do things when the time is right. As an Onondaga friend put it to me, "you can't pick berries until the berries are ripe."

The best teachers have shown me that things have to be done bit by bit. Nothing that means anything happens quickly - we only think it does.

If it wasn't for good," my mother says, "we human beings would have been wiped out a long time ago. Either the monsters would have gotten us or we would have killed each other off with greed and jealousy and anger. So we have to believe in good. We have to look for the good in ourselves.

Guilt can make you doubt yourself at the very moment when you need to proceed with certainty.

Do we make ourselves into what we become or is it built into our genes, into the fate spun for us by whatever shapes events?

Another of the hard things about being in a war, grandchildren, is that although there are times of quiet when the fighting has stopped, you know you will soon be fighting again. Those quiet times give you the chance to think about what has happened. Some of it you would rather not think about, as you remember the pain and the sorrow. You also have time to worry about what will happen when you go into battle again.

As long as we can remember them, our families will always be with us.