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.

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."

Kill every enemy twice, Wilky said. Better than gettin' shot by a soldier pretending to be dead.

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.

Strong words outlast the paper they are written upon.

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

A story is a burden which must be carried with as much care as we carry a sleeping child