June, 17, 1782
Dear Journal,
I can't believe this. My brother almost - almost ripped up
the beautiful beaded pouch that my great-great ancestor made by hand. I was going to put it away when suddenly
he came up from behind me and stole it away from me! He
ran through the pueblo, almost knocking over a really nice
vase that was just made by one of the mothers in my tribe.
She was about to smack him but she didn't. I knew she would just blame it all on me and I was scared for that and
that he would rip the pouch. I ran after him and carefully snatched it out from under his arm. He screamed put my name, '' Sakioa!!!'' he yelled as I kept on running to our part of the pueblo. Mother halted me to a stop right in front of her feet. I almost fell over on top my back. She said '' Hand over the pouch, let me see if you took any of the beads off.'' I was afraid to hand it over but I did. She looked at me smiling and said '' you are lucky Sakioa, he almost destroyed the whole thing.'' I took a big breathe and let it out really fast. I have to go wash up for bed.
Sincerely, Sakioa
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