A long time ago, a young man named Crow lived in a Seneca village. An orphan, he lived alone at the village edge in a small bark lodge, his hair tangled and his clothes old and tattered. The village children were cruel to him, mocking his appearance and his status. This was a time before stories existed to teach people respect and kindness.
Crow was an excellent hunter. He traded the birds and animals he killed for food and clothing. As winter approached, he had to venture deeper into the woods to hunt. One day, he went further than ever before and found a clearing with a large, flat stone and a round stone resting on top.
Crow sat on the flat stone, leaning against the round one. He laid his hunted birds beside him and took out some parched corn to eat.
"Shall I tell you a story?" asked a deep, rumbling voice nearby.
Startled, Crow jumped up, looking around but seeing no one. He dismissed it as his imagination and sat down again.
"Shall I tell you a story?" the voice repeated.
This time, Crow looked closely at the round stone he was leaning against and saw a face forming in it. He realized the stone was speaking.
"Who are you?" Crow asked.
"I am Grandfather Stone. I have been here since time began," the stone replied. "Shall I tell you a story?"
"What is a story?" asked Crow.
"Stories tell us of all things that happened before this time," answered Grandfather Stone. "Give me a gift of your birds, and I will tell you how the world came to be."
Crow agreed. He sat and listened as the stone told story after story: of Sky Woman falling to earth, the creation of Turtle Island, and stone giants. The stories continued until sunset.
"That's enough for today," said the stone. "Come back tomorrow for more. But tell no one what you have heard."
Crow returned to the village with few birds to trade. When questioned, he blamed the scarcity on the approaching winter.
For many days, Crow hunted briefly before rushing back to the clearing with birds as gifts for Grandfather Stone. He listened to stories all day, returning to the village with fewer and fewer birds. The village children mocked him even more, saying he was no longer a good hunter.
One day, after placing his gift, Crow asked for more stories.
"I have no more stories to tell," Grandfather Stone answered. "You have heard all that has happened before this time. Now you must pass on this knowledge. You will be the first storyteller. Tell others what you have heard and add stories of what happens from now on. People will remember them, some better than others. Some will tell different versions. It does not matter. The truths and lessons will be remembered."
"Thank you, Grandfather Stone," said Crow. "I will make sure the stories are not forgotten."
Crow returned to his village. Knowing he was not respected there, he gathered his few belongings and left without a word. No one missed him.
He traveled far and came to another village. The people welcomed him warmly, inviting him to sit by their fire and share their food.
In gratitude, Crow said, "You have been so kind. I would like to share something with you." He began to tell the stories from Grandfather Stone.
That night, the lodge felt warmer, and the first storyteller's voice rose above the howling wind. People went to sleep dreaming of the tales. The village chief sent messengers to neighboring villages, inviting all to hear the stories. They brought gifts of food and clothing for Crow. A beautiful young woman came to listen every time he spoke.
Many seasons passed. Crow stayed in the village and married the young woman. After sharing all the stories with that village and its neighbors, Crow and his wife traveled to more distant villages to tell the tales.
Eventually, they came to Crow's original village. The people did not recognize him in his fine clothes with his beautiful wife. The chief welcomed them to sit by the fire and share food. Crow told his stories, and the people listened with their ears and hearts.
"You must not forget these stories and legends," Crow told them. "Pass them on to your children and grandchildren, and they to theirs. We can never again forget the stories and their wisdom."
And so it has been from that day to this. The stories from Grandfather Stone have been handed down through generations, and storytellers are still honored by those who listen.