A Quote by Joseph Bruchac

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."
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.
My best friend was Aboriginal. She taught me about 'bush tucker' - the food of the land, the different things you could eat if you got lost in the bush, like grasses and berries. There's this tree called the billygoat plum - the fruit is quite nice.
I love berries. Strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, black berries, anything with an 'errie' in it!
Women with a higher intake of berries appeared to have delayed cognitive aging by 2.5 years. So it's like your brain is 2.5 years younger if you're eating berries.
Summer in Seattle allows me to indulge in some of the region's top culinary delights - I'm talking about wild king salmon and fresh, ripe Washington stone fruits and berries like cherries, peaches, plums, and blueberries.
You see the one thing I've always maintained is that I'm an American Indian. I'm not a Native American. I'm not politically correct. Everyone who's born in the Western Hemisphere is a Native American. We are all Native Americans. And if you notice, I put American before my ethnicity. I'm not a hyphenated African-American or Irish-American or Jewish-American or Mexican-American.
Even as a kid, I was a businessman. I figured out that if you plucked all the berries off my neighbor's tree and smashed them up, they made a Nickelodeon Gak-type consistency. I sold them to all the neighborhood kids and made stacks of quarters. Of course, the berries were poisonous, and I got in all types of trouble.
Hope has a thick skin and will endure many a blow; it will put on patience as a vestment and will endure all things (if they be of the right kind) for the joy that is set before it. Hence patience is called patience of hope,' because it is hope that makes the soul exercise long-suffering under the cross until the time comes to enjoy the crown!
Making crumble is one of my favourite things in the world - I add oats, berries, honey and cinnamon.
Better than any argument is to rise at dawn and pick dew-wet red berries in a cup.
I'm not terribly good at three-page recipes - I tend to skip bits - or anything that involves marinating things in juniper berries.
Peaceful warriors have the patience to wait until the mud settles and the water clears. They remain unmoving until the right time, so the right action arises by itself. They do not seek fulfillment, but wait with open arms to welcome all things.
She sits down and puts her hand to her chest and rocks. Thinks of all she has lost and will lose. All she has had and will have. It seems to her that life is like gathering berries into an apron with a hole. Why do we keep on? Because the berries are beautiful, and we must eat to survive. We catch what we can. We walk past what we lose for the promise of more, just ahead.
When I left my Catholic school, I was around 10 or 11 years old, and it started to unravel for me there. Kids pick up on things if you're interested and inquisitive. I was seeing things that were not in line with what I'd been taught about Jesus. It didn't jive with me.
God would love to piece together the shattered fragments of your life. But He is waiting ... graciously waiting until the time is right. Until you are tired of the life you are living ... until you see it for what it really is. Until you are weary of coping ... of taking charge of your own life ... until you realize the mess you are making of it. Until you recognize your need for Him ... He's waiting.
There are a lot of things my mother taught me and helped me and disciplined me and made sure I stayed on the right track. And there are a ton of things that only my father could have taught me.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!