I was reading some of the stories on the Encounters with the Good People site and I thought I would share one of the stories from my Father in Law.
He was full blood Cherokee and was born in a log cabin where the Blue Ridge Parkway runs now. Every year he would get his Christmas money by walking through the mountains and collecting ginseng. At 80 years old he could still out-walk most young people who he occasionally took with him.
One day he was out and walked miles and miles through the mountains, but was not able to find any ginseng. He was a man who rarely got angry and did not curse at life. He walked to places he had found ginseng in the past, but there was nothing.
He was amazed and dumbfounded. He always found ginseng.
After many hours he decided he should take a break and he sat down on a rock to rest and eat the lunch my Mother in Law had fixed for him. He looked around and sighed and then, as he always did, he tore off part of his sandwich and set it down, along with a piece of his raisin cake, then poured a bit of his drink out.
He thanked the Little People of the forest, Yunwi Tsunsdi, and offered them that little bit of food. When he finished his lunch he lay back and drifted off into a nap.
He didn’t sleep long. When he woke up he looked around to get his bearings and discovered he was surrounded on every side with ginseng.
He had never seen so much of it in one place.
He gathered all of the ginseng that he needed for Christmas, thanked the Little People and headed home.