Feathers of the Spirit

Insights from the life of Howard T. Rainer: An advocate for Native American pride and progress

Howard Rainer
Native American Educational Outreach Programs
Brigham Young University

© 2005 by Brigham Young University,
Division of Continuing Education
All rights reserved.

Dear Friend:
For over twenty years, it has been my joy to journey to many Native American reservations, reserves, communities, and small villages throughout North America. These have been unique lifetime experiences that have created a reservoir of fond memories in my mind and heart.

How grateful I feel that I have been blessed by the Great Creator God to be sent to His earth as a Taos Pueblo-Creek Indian and to have the rare opportunity to associate with thousands of Native American people of many tribes and all ages.

The purpose of this publication is not to boast and congratulate myself on my work in education, but rather to share with you a few of the most significant moments and memories of interacting, teaching, and working closely with Native Americans throughout the United States and Canada.

I have attempted to make every recorded incident and event as accurate as possible, notwithstanding a few faded facts that have dimmed over time.

I share with you what has been stored in my heart and soul. These are the moments that have had great impact upon my life. They are true and they did happen!

The significance of sharing these special moments and events in the life of one Indian man is to convince the doubter, the disbeliever, the skeptic, the one far away from God that He lives. It is my sincere hope that after reading these stories, you too have that same confirmation or will receive this personal testimony.

When I look back on my life, how could I ever deny that God, the Great Creator, was there and involved in all of my many journeys? May you find hope, peace, and confidence in a Supreme Being who does care about Indian people, as evidenced from one Native American's experience.

Howard T. Rainer

Do You Want to Have Success in this Work?
There have been the curious who have asked how I got into this type of work as a motivator, educator, and advocate for Native American people. My lifetime ambition was never to be in front of people, and definitely not to be an advocate for education among our Indian people. My grades and academic success in high school would verify that!

It took many years to overcome my personal doubts, self-pity, fear of being noticed in public, and fear of voicing my opinions. The first time I ever gave a major address in front of people as a college student I shook violently, knocking my knees together.

When I look back at where the seed was planted of becoming a national Indian trainer, it evolved from a kind and caring grandmother at Taos Pueblo, New Mexico. I believe to this day that she was truly an inspired Indian woman who could see far beyond my limited vision of myself.

She affirmed without any doubt in her mind that I would someday travel to strange places and meet many Native Americans. Her admonition to a young boy then was to always leave a good name wherever I went.

I was not always a religiously inclined person nor was I convinced during my youth that personal prayer had any real power. Again it was my grandmother who prophetically told me when I dismissed her invitation to join her in an evening prayer, "Someday you will know who He is!"

How many times was her stern admonition correct? Many times, and the force of her belief continues on to this day!

While America gropes and wrestles with when her citizens can and cannot pray in public, our Indian people continue to call upon the Creator God for His presence, His hand, and His blessing at many of our functions. It is not a matter of debate or argument. The old people have taught us this important principle, and many of us are carrying on this important Indian tradition.

At the first workshop I conducted twenty years ago in Oklahoma, I was taught and reminded then that prayer before a workshop would cause many good things to happen. I have tried to keep this wise counsel close to me, which was invoked with much love and confidence by an Indian Baptist preacher.

As a young man just out of college and full of untested energy, I needed to meet this noble gentleman who helped set a standard for my life's work. He said with a big warm smile, "Howard, you are pretty good at working with Indian people, but do you want to really be successful for many years to come?"

Obviously, I wanted the magic formula, the key to success. He recognized my restless spirit, but he also must have seen what I could not see at the time. He said if I were to become one of those few who was to endure the long hard road of a public speaker, trainer, and motivator, I would need to have the Lord's blessings. That was the key.

I am indebted to this Indian man. I could face him today and return that warm smile and confirm to him that his admonition was absolutely correct. I have wanted to succeed in my workshops at national Indian conferences and Indian gatherings. That success has not come easily and there have been disappointments, but Heavenly Father has lifted my spirits and helped me have more successes than failures.

Standing to the Test
Early in my growth and development, while still finding out how to become an effective workshop presenter, I learned a great lesson on living true to one's personal convictions. This experience occurred in the Hoopa Indian community in northern California.

I was conducting a leadership training seminar for tribal leaders and program directors for the Hoopa tribe. In the afternoon of the first day I wanted to show the participants a filmstrip I had produced on alcoholism prevention for Native Americans. In introducing the filmstrip I indicated that the presentation was produced at Brigham Young University.

There was an immediate negative response from a large-statured Indian man who grumbled, "If this is from BYU and the Mormons, I don't want to see it!" The rest of the shocked participants waited for my response. I gazed back at this huge man and responded firmly, "Sir, I'll tell you what. If you don't like what you see and hear from this filmstrip and what I have to say after this presentation, we can all pack up and leave. I came here to teach, and that is what I intend to do. I make that challenge to you because if you were the teacher, I would have the respect to sit and listen to you!"

I then addressed the entire group and told them again of my challenge, that if they did not like what they heard or saw in the next hour, they could tell me and I would be glad to terminate the workshop and go home.

Tension filled the air, but no one got up and left after the first hour and thereafter. I kept on teaching and told the participants that I had produced the filmstrip, that it had been made at Brigham Young University, and that I was a Mormon or a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

There was no further comment from the large gentleman, but he watched me very intently and observed the reactions of the other participants throughout the two days of the workshop. At the conclusion, as I was bidding everyone farewell, I kept an eye on this Indian man and was anxious to see what his final reaction would be.

Several of the participants lined up to express their appreciation, but the gentleman just sat in the back. He waited until everyone had departed and then rose from his chair. I had no idea what he might say, and I was very apprehensive.

Slowly he made his way from the back of the room and then approached me face-to-face. He said in a burly voice, "Mr. Rainer, I want to give you something to take home. I hope that you always keep this to remind you of the respect that I now have for you. I wanted to see when I challenged you if you would really stand up for your religion and faith. I knew you were a Mormon, but I wanted to see if under a little pressure you would bend or apologize for that. I mined this gold dust myself." With that remark he shook my hand and pressed a small bottle containing the gold into my palm.

Inwardly I sighed with relief. I knew I would always remember this occasion, where I learned that one must stand for one's convictions and beliefs because it is our reaction and response to a challenge to one's faith that can teach more in a moment than all of the words of boldness spoken away from adversity.

I did pass the test that day, but there were many more to come. I realize that I have learned over the years that Indian people across this nation who have challenged my membership in the LDS Church have found that I will stand firm. This has earned me more respect, I feel, than all the things I have tried to teach for over twenty years among these wonderful people!

I Didn't Learn a D#*@ Thing!
In working with Native Americans for many years, I have been taught some valuable lessons. As a presenter of numerous annual workshops throughout the years, I never know what is being perceived and what messages are being received. For me it was important to learn that what a presenter says and presents has far-reaching impact.

One such occurrence happened at a leadership development workshop in Sacramento, California. Tribal leaders from the various rancherias (as Indian reservations are called in California) were invited to attend. Over 150 came from the northern part of the state, and it was at this seminar that I learned early something valuable as a presenter.

For two days I worked with these tribal leaders and gave them instruction and materials that provided information on improving effectiveness in working with tribal employees, tribal members, and community leaders.

At the completion of the training session I had all of the participants form a large circle and express their views and reactions of how they felt about what they had learned or observed in the two-day session. As everyone expressed themselves in turn, I was listening intently on exactly what information they were retaining and deeming important. I came up to one tribal chairwoman and asked her what she had gained from the sessions. She moved forward into the center of the circle and said, "Mr. Rainer, I did not learn a d#*@ thing!" and quickly retreated back to the main circle. I was stunned for a moment (one learns to be quick on his feet in these situations), and I responded, "Well, at least you are honest" and went on to the next person.

Leaving that Sacramento workshop I wondered about the comment this tribal chairwoman had made and what was missing from the presentations to have her react that way.

Several months later I was asked to return to Sacramento and conduct another workshop for a group of northern California Indians who represented community people from the same rancherias that the tribal leaders had come from.

As I entered the training area, this same tribal chairwoman headed in my direction. My first reaction was, "Oh, no, here she is again; I wonder why she even came. What will this workshop be like with her attending?"

The woman wore a scowling frown on her face until she came within talking distance. Her countenance lit up as she said, "Mr. Rainer, do you remember me? I hoped I would see you before your training started. I wanted you to think about why I made that comment to you several weeks ago. You young guys think you know everything! Just because you have a little college training behind you and can talk good, don't forget where you came from! I was so impressed with some of your messages from the last workshop that I went home to my rancheria and ran off all those good words for my people. Now let's get in there and see what else you can teach us!"

My relief must have shown, because she gave me a big smile and entered the lecture room. I have not forgotten those wise words of admonition. I must not let ego and self-importance hinder my effectiveness as a teacher and role model. It was important to remind other Indian people where I had come from and that I understood many of the challenges they were facing because I had been there.

Indian people are up front and will tell you what is on their minds. I am grateful to this woman for having the courage to make me evaluate the true purpose of my work and the wisdom of sending messages of relevance and importance to Indian people.

2 Timothy 1:7
No one is immune from family challenges and crises. I happened to face one while heading to Alaska in 1991. While sitting in the Seattle Airport I felt prompted to call my wife at home. Upon reaching her, I heard a frantic voice, "Howard, your dad has been trying to contact you. Your sister Ann died yesterday, and they are going to have the burial in the morning and wanted you there as soon as possible!"

I sat in the telephone booth saddened by the news, but also perplexed as to what to do. As people passed by I sat in silence inside the booth and prayed, asking what should be my course of action. As I sat there waiting for a reply, an impression entered my mind that brought great confusion for a second. Was I hearing right? "Let the dead bury the dead."

I called my father's home in Taos, New Mexico, and told him that I would do whatever he felt was right. In any family crisis one should honor the obligation to be at the side of loved ones, but here I was almost a thousand miles from our home and with commitments in Alaska. The wisdom of my father was commendable. He urged me to go on to Alaska with these words, "Son, your sister Ann is dead; we will bury her, and so why don't you go on and help the living?"

With a heavy heart I boarded the plane for Juneau, Alaska. After checking in to my hotel room at midnight, I finally dozed off around 1:00 in the morning when I heard a commotion like fighting next door. After an hour of disturbance I called the front desk to complain, but the ruckus kept me up until dawn. At 6:00 I boarded a small plane for Haines, Alaska.

When I reached the school where I was to conduct the workshop, no one was around. I asked the janitor if this was the right school. He shyly said, "I don't know what's going on."

Finally a distinguished-looking Native man entered the room and asked, "Where is everybody?" I replied that I had no idea, and we sat there in silence until another person came into the room and asked the same question. The three of us waited for half an hour and then finally the Native gentleman said, "Why don't we go to the radio station and invite the community to come out?"

The one sitting in the room with us happened to be the owner of the station, and he agreed to the suggestion. He asked if I would go on the air and announce the workshop and explain why people should come to it. I responded that I would be glad to if the Native man would join me.

We sat down and announced over the air that all the community needed to be at this workshop for the sake of their children and that a Native educator from the lower forty-nine was here to teach parents and youth of the power of education.

As I sat there, the Native man said on the air, "Now I would like to read something to my friend from New Mexico. I feel that he needs to hear this at this time." He pulled out a miniature Bible and read from 2 Timothy 1:7: "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."

Why was he sharing this inspirational thought with me over the air? Could it have been that this man was inspired to tell me that I should not fear, but that the Lord would send the comfort of a sound mind for a troubled soul and that through that peace of mind I would have power to accomplish something profound in Alaska?

As we left the station, I thanked him for his kindness and questioned him on his choice of quotations. He responded, "Howard, I knew you needed to hear those words today."

Within an hour we had a roomful of Native and non-Native parents and young people. The climax of the workshop came when I expressed my sorrow and hurt at not being home for my sister's funeral; I told the audience that it was a sacrifice for me to be with them today, but if I could affect one young person to change for good, it would be worth it.

One young Native girl stood up and announced her commitment: "I want Mr. Rainer to know that in honor of his sister, I will quit drinking and try to clean up my life."

As I sat there, I reflected on the wise, comforting words of my father: "Howard, don't worry, we will bury your sister; go and help the living!"

I left Haines, Alaska, for Fairbanks, and then it was on to a place called Tok, Alaska. It was here that I would have to have a clear mind and an increased capacity to love! I felt the visit to the public school in Tok was going to be challenging because of the reports I had already heard from a concerned Native parent. I prayed several times before sunrise for strength, inspiration, and guidance on how to accomplish the task ahead.

When I arrived at the school I was taken immediately to the principal's office. He looked at me and said, "So you are the hot shot from the south!" I immediately responded, "Sir, I don't know if I am a hot shot, but I came here to teach your young people." "Good," he replied smugly, "Well, I have a challenge for you. I want you to teach all the students in our school; are you up to it?" I said, "If you are, I am."

As I walked down the hall, a teacher approached me and surprised me. "Sir, it looks like you could use a prayer right about now." I was shocked, but graciously accepted his offer. As he ended his prayer I heard my name being announced in the gymnasium. I ran toward the door and then stood for a moment and observed what I was up against for the next two days. On one side of the gym were all of the non-Native students and teachers, and on the other end were all of the Native students. Hundreds of eyes of apprehension were upon me. I knew that the task to be accomplished was to get these students working and interacting together.

With lots of hard work, sweat, and silent prayers, we plowed through the hidden animosities existing among the students and faculty. Like a miracle, positive things began to happen. The ultimate test was the challenge I gave the students to jointly put on a talent show for each other the next day. It was a success, and the barriers that had divided these students for years were finally broken.

As a Native woman was driving me to their little airport, she started to cry as she said, "Howard, what if you had not come? What would the principal and those white teachers have said about Native people? We needed to have respect brought into the school for our Native youth, and I saw that happen. Thank you so much for coming."

As I flew off into the sky and Tok, Alaska, disappeared below, I sat and thought about that beautiful verse, "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." Our kind, loving Heavenly Father can bring to all of us His peace of mind and heart which can lead to the power to do the impossible!

The Day He Prevailed at Dulce, New Mexico
In the many journeys I have taken into Indian country, there have been those special incidents that are never forgotten. It is confirmation that God the Eternal Father is always nearby, ready to lend an unseen, powerful, helping hand.

One such encounter took place in the winter of 1992. I was invited to conduct a tribal employee positive self-development workshop for the Jicarilla Apache tribe in Dulce, New Mexico. This required driving alone over 400 miles from Utah. The discomforts of the flu were beginning to plague me as I made my way into New Mexico. By the time I reached the remote Apache community, I had a high temperature, along with all the other ailments and inconveniences of this sickness.

I attempted to shake off the illness with a good night's rest, but to no avail. I was up most of the night sweating, with a running nose, splitting headache, and many trips to the bathroom. By dawn I was totally exhausted. I contemplated how I would have any strength left to conduct this workshop, let alone face several hundred tribal employees. The feelings of fatigue, discouragement, and inadequacy loomed at sunrise as I struggled to prepare myself for the day.

I knelt down by my bedside and asked the Lord in fervent prayer if somehow he might grant me sufficient strength to work with these Apache people. I knew from past experience that it would be virtually impossible to humanly accomplish this task without the Lord's intervention.

I mustered all the physical energy I had left and headed for the tribal gymnasium. When I arrived, perspiration had soaked my shirt, and the bodily aches consumed my being.

In working with large groups of people, I have discovered that race makes no difference in reactions to mandatory attendance. There are those who come to these sessions with varied degrees of acceptance or defiance. As I observed these tribal employees entering the gym, I watched their body language that indicated some were defiant and some were merely bored.

My heart sank as I saw the bleachers fill. My thought was, "How on earth am I going to make it through the day and even have an impact on these people?"

All eyes were upon me. My body cried out to go back to the motel and lie down. My spirit was grasping for a helping hand from beyond, and my mind was numb with fatigue. My mouth was dry and words that usually could flow freely seemed to stick for a few seconds. Could these people sense that I was in physical difficulty? Would they walk out in displeasure? Would they test me today? All kinds of haunting thoughts were swirling inside me.

I excused myself for a moment and walked outside and looked up into the clouds. I pleaded with God that by some miracle of His power He might help this unworthy soul with the challenges that were before me.

There was no visual sign, no earth-shaking response, but in a calm way I felt assured that his compassion would prevail. I was right!

Despite my physical ailments that day, I was given renewed energy that cannot be denied. The most profound thing that happened was I did not even have to exert myself in moving this mass of people to have them complete the exercises I had planned for them. It was so beautiful to see them respond and react so willingly to my instructions. My weak voice was sufficient to stir these tribal employees.

At the completion of the day everything was marvelous. The participants, I could feel, left fulfilled and satisfied with the presentation. I still had sufficient energy, but went to my motel room and collapsed. It was a momentous experience I shall never forget. The Lord did prevail that day in Dulce, New Mexico. Perhaps I was the student that needed to be taught an important principle. There is nothing on this earth that is impossible to accomplish when one has sufficient faith and desire to work among his fellowmen. Maybe even greater was the lesson that no mortal on this earth can boast of his own strength. I was reminded this day there is greater power beyond man's comprehension. How grateful I am for prayer and for Him who answers it.

God Answers All Prayers Somewhere, Sometime!
One of the most memorable experiences I have ever had working with Native people occurred in Alaska in the winter of 1992. The principal at an all-Native village school in Chevak, Alaska, wanted me to work with his students. The invitation did not at the time seem complicated, but I never would have guessed that frigid arctic winds and a blizzard would test my will to go on.

Travel was going well until we made a stopover in Bethel, a Native village. I got off the plane; then came the announcement that all seasoned travelers hate to hear. "All passengers going to Chevak: Please report to the ticket counter. There will be a delay in your flight due to bad weather." It was midmorning and I thought smugly, "Oh well, what is a little delay?"

That delay turned into a long agonizing afternoon and night. There are no hotels or restaurants in this village, so I was stuck in this small smoke-filled airport. Anyone who knows me understands that confinement and extended thumb-sitting is just not conducive to my patience level and personality. I read everything I could find in that little airport and finally found a place to sleep.

The next morning I began making plans to abandon my visit to Chevak and head back to Anchorage. I called the principal and informed him that if the weather did not cooperate soon that I would have to go back to Anchorage on the midmorning flight. His immediate response was, "You can't! It is imperative that you come!" I responded, "Do you believe in prayers being answered?" There was a long pause and then he said, "Well, I guess I do." I told him that he better pray for the weather to break or I would be on the next flight to Anchorage.

Apparently he did something desperate because within a half hour, the airline representative announced: "All passengers flying to Chevak and Hooper Bay, please board immediately!"

As we flew in the frigid air I looked down below me at the white vastness and asked myself, "What am I doing here?" We landed first at the small Eskimo village of Hooper Bay. The turbulent whipping snow made those disembarking disappear into white oblivion.

We took off again, this time for Chevak. As we approached the dirt runway, the plane swayed from side to side in the crosswinds. It was an uneasy feeling to be landing there and see no airport or building to seek shelter in. As I left the plane then watched it lift off again, my heart sank.

Here I was standing in the frigid cold, not dressed appropriately for this kind of harsh weather. There was no one around and then suddenly I saw two small lights coming my way. It was a welcome sight! An Eskimo yelled against the freezing, blowing wind, "Are you Mr. Rainer?" "I sure am," I shouted back. With that I boarded his snowmobile and off we went into the wind and snow. As I sat on that snowmobile my black mustache turned completely icy white. The ride was numbing cold, and I was ever so grateful to finally reach the school.

What happened that day will remain in my mind as one of the most memorable experiences of working with Native young people. At the completion of the workshop I asked the students if there was anything they wanted to say. One of the students arose and came quietly up to the podium. "All I have to say is that I hate my dad so much. I just hate him for what he did!" He recounted the horror of witnessing his father murder his mother. He went on to unload his anger and hurt by telling his fellow students how humiliating it had been for him to have to come to school without any shoes. The entire room was completely silent.

After him came others who stood awaiting their turn and who broke down in tears from all of the emotional traumas they had been repressing over the years. As I sat there I felt so helpless. I said, "God, what can I do for these kids? I am nothing!" Finally a thought came to my mind: "Howard, just pray for these kids; they are God's children and He will have mercy and compassion for them."

I bowed my head and fervently asked the Lord that day to bless these young people and have mercy upon them. As I ended, all of the students began hugging each other. I admonished them to build stronger bonds of friendship. The young man who had spoken first came up to me and held on to my neck firmly and said pleadingly, "Howard, I wish you could be my dad!" I told him I was his new dad and that I would never forget him and what he had accomplished that day in his first major step of personal healing.

I flew all the way back to Anchorage and arrived exhausted but at peace. Two Eskimo women picked me up at midnight to take me to my hotel. As we were driving, one of the women asked, "Did you make it to Chevak?" I said, "Yes, and I experienced reaching the top of Mount McKinley spiritually with the young people there." I related what had taken place, and they were silent until almost reaching the hotel.

The other woman spoke up and said, "Mr. Rainer, my sister and I have been praying for someone to go to Chevak and work with our young people. We prayed and prayed every Saturday for two years, but nothing ever happened. We had given up this last Saturday praying to God that something good might happen for our young people, but now we know that God does answer prayers."

As I was about to get out of the car I told them that their sincere prayers had been answered and that God the Father does answer our prayers somewhere, sometime!

The Power of a Beaded Belt Buckle!
In the spring of 1993 I was invited to the Bermigi, Minnesota, area to conduct a series of positive self-development programs for Native American students. In the evening I was honored to make some presentations to senior high school students who were graduating. A special award went to a young boy who had already courageously faced adverse circumstances in his early life. He was in his third foster home because his father was in jail and his mother had been murdered. I was so pleased to present him with an eagle feather and announce that at this honors banquet, his new Indian name would be "Good Voice Eagle," after the name of a deceased friend of mine. At the conclusion of the banquet a beautiful beaded buckle was presented to me.

As I headed for the parking lot a young boy came up to my car and shyly looked at me for a few seconds in silence. His probe of my face was interrupted with, "Mister, you have one of these, don't you!" He pointed to his deformed mouth and nose, and I knew exactly what this boy was talking about. He had been born with a double cleft palate. Unpleasant memories flooded my mind as I responded, "Yes, I have what you have."

I went on to share with him that I clearly understood what he was going through and that, yes, there would be those in life who would see that physical flaw and make fun or try to demean him because of it. I told him although there had been difficult times in my early years, I was trying to do something positive with my life. The challenge to overcome feelings of low self-esteem and feeling physically inferior could be replaced by having a personal cause and discovering the hidden talents that can sometimes be overshadowed by some imperfection.

He seemed to listen intently as I recounted some of my own negative experiences. After a few minutes his mother beckoned him to get ready to leave. I ended my visit with him by giving him the beaded buckle I had received earlier. I told him that this buckle would now become a daily reminder that despite all that he would have to endure in the future, there was another just like him who was making it and had the courage to persevere.

The young man held the belt buckle carefully in both hands and stared at it intently. Then he said, "Thank you, Mr. Rainer" and walked away. As I watched him depart, I wished that there was more I could have done for him.

Several days later I received a telephone call from his mother. She was excited to tell me what her son had done with the beaded belt buckle. Her son, she said, had spent most of his life hanging his head down in self-condemnation. I understood his actions and feelings perfectly. She went on to report that he had spent two full days and nights beading a belt to wear with the buckle. When he completed it, he put on the belt and buckle, raised his head, and left for school. His mother was hopeful that perhaps this would be the beginning ember of self-confidence in his life.

I hung up the phone and pondered my own life wearing a cleft palate. Yes, there had been difficulties and challenges encountered with it. There had been memories of frustrations and humiliation, but what a great teacher this physical flaw had been. It provided the experiences that I would need in my life to work with those who were struggling to discover their own worth. It would take years to find my own peace, but what a true blessing the Creator God had given to me. My physical challenge helped prepare me for an entire life's work!

Why Have I Made It This Far?
Over twenty years have been spent in the airways, venturing out like the eagle and flying to one Native American community or gathering after another. There have been moments during those travels that I have wondered if I would ever return home.

It was one Apache grandmother from New Mexico who made me keenly aware why all these journeys were made possible in safety.

I had just completed a workshop for the Jicarilla Apache tribe and was about to depart their tribal building when an elderly Apache woman came up to me. She studied me for a few minutes in silence and said in a very convincing voice, "Mr. Rainer, do you know why you always return to your home in safety with no trouble? I will tell you why. Because I pray for you every day, wherever you are. You are always somewhere trying to do good for our people, and I pray hard for your safety. Don't you ever forget that!" With that admonition she walked slowly away from me, looking back only once.

I have never forgotten or taken lightly that kind woman's words of comfort. I am sure that her daily prayers to our Creator God were being answered. I have also met others in Indian country who have extended their love in offering a daily prayer not only for my safety, but for my success. There is power in prayer and I believe, like this Apache grandmother, that all prayers are heard.

God Can Do What Man Can't!
I had received several pleading telephone calls from a Native American who wanted me to come to her community and provide a workshop on suicide prevention. I told her that I had no professional experience in this area and that she should contact someone else. She would not accept this suggestion and called me again several weeks later. During our conversation she indicated that what they needed most was a positive Native American role model.

Again I assured her that there were others more qualified than I who could do a better job for her people. Her tone told me she was desperate and that I should accept the invitation. I finally consented and made arrangements in the early spring to go to Craig, Alaska.

To get to Craig, first fly to Seattle, Washington, then to Ketchikan, Alaska, an intermediate stop, and then take a small plane to Craig. This is all easy enough if the weather cooperates.

On arriving in Ketchikan, I immediately went to my hotel for the night and found a message waiting for me. This woman wanted to make sure I was on my way and that I would call her in the morning.

Early the next day I arrived at the airport and was waiting for my flight when over the loudspeaker came an announcement that the flight to Craig had been postponed due to bad weather. I was upset and wondered how long the delay would last. I called the woman in Craig and told her the situation. She said, "Howard, you have to come to Craig; I have people waiting here for you, and last night another one of our young people tried to commit suicide. We are in a desperate situation here, and we need you!"

I hung up the phone and began to seriously contemplate the situation. Here I was several thousand miles from home, not really confident that I could sufficiently help these people and wondering whether the weather would clear.

One hour slipped into the next and decision time came, should I abort the trip and head home on the next plane to Seattle? I decided to leave and called the woman to tell her of my plans; there was silence on the other end. She then said, "Howard, we will pray for the weather to break up and let you come." With that she hung up, and I waited for a few more minutes. Heading toward the ticket counter to make arrangements for the flight to Seattle, I heard the announcement: "The flight to Craig, Alaska, is now ready for boarding!"

I grabbed my bags and went directly to a small four-passenger plane. I didn't feel that confident in attempting to fly in the clearing but unstable weather, but I began to realize that this woman had tremendous faith and that I ought to fly with that spiritual confidence.

An hour into the air I looked down. We were flying through gigantic canyons of rock and timber. My hands began to sweat as I thought to myself, "What if we go down; no one would ever find us there!" We edged our way along the massive canyon walls and finally arrived in Craig.

There was a look of joy mixed with urgency on the face of the Native woman waiting for me. As the plane took off, she said frantically, "Howard, we must hurry and get to the school gymnasium; there are over 200 people who have been waiting for you for four hours. Not one of them has left and I know they are anxious to hear you!" A rush of ideas ran through my mind as I pondered what my plan of attack would be for some of these people who had already lost loved ones to the devastation of suicide.

Upon our arrival we ran inside from the rain and there they were, Native and non-Native people of all ages patiently waiting for something to happen! My first impression was that it was imperative that we have an opening prayer for guidance and direction on how this gathering should proceed. I told the audience that with the Lord's endorsement we would not fail.

The program seemed to fall into place, with participants of all ages taking an active role in the open discussions of how to assist their young people with the problems they were facing in the community.

The most profound thing that I realized from this event was the power there was in the opening and closing prayers. One can never comprehend the magnitude and impact a prayer can have in bringing peace, strengthening the discouraged, bringing guidance and direction, and empowering a people to go forward with faith and hope.

I did teach some principles I had learned from professionals in suicide prevention, but I came to believe that it was this Native woman's great faith that perhaps made a greater difference. It might have been imperative for her to have an outsider come into the community and stress the importance of unified prayers for protection and inner peace for healing, rendering support to those in need and personal power to make positive changes.

Perhaps I was sent to Craig, Alaska, to be taught that when all human abilities are not strong enough to meet the dark forces of self-destruction, one must wield the sword of personal prayer to fight the battle.

Several weeks later I was apprehensive as I called back to see what was happening in this little community. I wondered if any change or significant difference had occurred as a result of my visit. I was informed with joy that the suicide attempts had subsided and that there were no tragic reports of completed ones!

Faith of a Paiute Elder
There are times when a person needs the spiritual faith of another to meet the challenges that face us in life. I recall vividly such an experience. It occurred in Cedar City, Utah, while I was conducting a workshop for the Paiute tribe.

It was in January. I arrived at the motel and called home to see if all was well. My wife was not home but at the hospital. Frantically I tracked her down and heard the disheartening news that my youngest son was taken to the hospital with pneumonia.

It was a struggle, thinking through the night that I should be home assisting my wife. The older children were home alone. As the day dawned I was still burdened with a heavy heart and discouragement. I contemplated how I would have the energy and the right spirit to conduct the all-day workshop.

When I opened my presentation I told the audience that I would greatly appreciate their prayers and support in helping me succeed with my presentation and that I was worried about my son's serious condition in the hospital.

During the morning break, a Paiute woman came to me and gently squeezed my arm. She looked into my eyes and with a beautiful, pleasant voice of assurance, she said, "Howard, I know everything is going to be all right with your son when you get home. I know it and God is going to make it right. You stop worrying right now and give us the information we need to learn. I know in my heart everything is going to be okay!"

I stood there recalling every word she said and thought to myself: "Here is a woman of great faith. I better believe what she just told me!"

I continued through the day to fulfill my obligations and immediately left by car for the four-hour drive home and to the hospital. When I arrived, my son's condition had improved significantly. I stayed with him the rest of the night.

Sitting in that hospital room, I reflected into the night on the convincing faith that the Paiute elder had. There was no doubt in her mind that "everything is going to be all right!" She promised, and I learned a wonderful lesson that there are those among us on this earth who have unwavering faith. Their trust and confidence in the Creator God is so strong that it blesses others around them!

A Proud Moment in 1992
One of my proudest moments in working with Native people would have to be what transpired in December 1992. It took several years for this event to take place, but a young Native man from the Sechelt Reserve in British Columbia had attended one of my workshops in Vancouver at an education conference and afterward desired to have me come to his community someday and work with his people.

Years passed without a visit, but he persisted. I finally arrived at his beautiful community two weeks before Christmas. Before the workshop began, a stately elder came up to me and asked, "Mr. Rainer, what is your philosophy in regard to education?" I told him, "Native and non-Native education means choices, options, and power for Native people, and without education, we are powerless as a people!"

He immediately instructed the sparse audience to go and get all the tribal members to hear my presentation. Apparently he was quite respected in the community, and they listened to his command. What would have been a small group turned out to be a sizable audience. It was beautiful to feel the positive reaction and feedback from these people.

On the second day, I went for broke. I challenged the Native parents, tribal leaders, and the entire community to make a personal oath that they would be drug and alcohol free that Christmas and New Year's Day. They all stood up and raised their right hand in full view of their children and grandchildren. A grandmother got up and said, "My people, that is not good enough. Let us put our names on a big piece of white paper so everyone can see it to remind ourselves that we made promises to our children that we cannot break!"

Each of the adults took their turn signing this document, and then I arose and challenged the young people also to promise under oath to refrain from drugs and alcohol during the holidays. They too made the same commitment to their parents and community leaders.

To show their immediate commitment to this pledge, some of the tribal members returned several cases of hard liquor they had purchased for the New Year's dance.

I was so proud of these people. I told them that they were going to make history and that people would hear about them across Canada and the United States because I was going to share this great news with other tribes.

On January 6, I called Sechelt tribal headquarters, with some misgivings, for a report. I began the conversation with, "Okay, give me the bad news first!" The voice on the other end said, "Howard, where is your faith in us? We did it; we told you we were going to do it, and we did it! It was so peaceful, so happy, so different. It was quiet all over. This is the first time we had a tribal dance for everyone, and even the little children were allowed to come because it was safe. It was wonderful!" A tribal member asked me what I thought it meant that several eagles had flown over the community on New Year's Day. I said perhaps it was their ancestors sending a message from the heavens that they were extremely proud of their grandchildren.

I sat there glowing for a few minutes and wanted to shout for joy. I congratulated them and spent the rest of the day calling people across the country and bragging about these abstainers. I reminded all whom I called that it could happen in their communities, their villages, their reservations too. Why not? These Native people were just like them, but they decided they had had enough and that Christmas was going to be different.

Can one Native person make a difference? Yes, that one person surely can, and when an entire tribe or community makes an oath for change, look at the powerful results that can come. In Sechelt there was peace, there was joy, there was happiness, there was safety for the little ones.

If someone were to ask me how these people did it, I would proudly say, without a doubt, it came about because of a sincere humble prayer that was offered before the workshop began. It occurred because the people were ready for change. It came forth because they had the courage not to break a promise.

Can any small town or big city in America or Canada lay claim to that?

I Pay My Phone Bill!
One beautiful spring I was invited to Fort Yukon, Alaska, to conduct a positive self-development workshop for Athabaskan Natives residing along the Yukon River. It was no easy task getting to this very remote area several hundred miles by small plane from Fairbanks, Alaska.

Accompanying me was a Cheyenne Indian from Oklahoma who was director of a Native program out of Anchorage, Alaska. He had a commanding presence because of his size. He was humorous and good natured, but I soon found out that when confronted he became an Alaskan grizzly bear!

Upon our arrival at the tiny fishing village of Fort Yukon, we immediately went to a small log cabin where we spent the night. The next morning the phone rang, and a heated conversation soon erupted between the mayor of the town and this Cheyenne Indian. As they exchanged verbal blows I sat uneasily and awaited the outcome. Apparently tribal politics were involved and I was caught in the middle. The mayor of the town was quite upset that I had stayed at a rival faction's cabin, and she wanted to know why! Finally after a few minutes of unpleasant exchanges, my host slammed down the phone and said angrily, "Pack up your things, Howard. I guess we will be heading back to Anchorage; I don't need to take this crap!"

Fortunately for me, past experience has taught me to not jump quickly to a conclusion, but to weigh the situation and determine the negative or positive consequences. As I sat there a thought came to me: I had come over two thousand miles to work with these Native young people who needed to hear my message. I was not going to let petty politics get in the way. I told my friend I needed to go into the next room for a couple of minutes and that I did not want to be disturbed.

I knelt down and asked God what I should do, whether or not I should stay and complete my assignment. If so, I prayed that he would open the way to make it possible. As I finished my prayer, the phone rang again and it was the mayor wanting to see me immediately in her office. The confused Cheyenne and I got into the jeep and raced down into town. As we entered the office, tension filled the air. Finally the silence was broken when she said, "Well, you want to work with our young people, do you?" I responded, "I am ready if you are! I think this would be a great experience for them."

There was a pause then she blurted out, "Then get in the boat waiting for you and get going!"

We hastily grabbed our bags, jumped into a small fishing boat, and headed up the Yukon River. Upon our arrival at a fishing camp, we were met by several adults who were preparing the campsite. These fishing camps consist of families who work long hours trapping salmon along the river to use as food for winter. Their young people were being taught the traditional ways of harvesting and preserving the salmon for the winter months ahead. The objective of the workshop was to teach these young people the value of traditional education as well as a school education.

Because of the political tensions at Fort Yukon, we were not sure how many young people would show up for our seminar, but again my prayer was answered. To the astonishment of us all, here came boat after boat filled with young people.

I had to be inventive working with these youth, but past teachings of my Pueblo childhood had prepared me for these kinds of unusual workshop settings. At the end, the adults and young people seemed to be pleased with our visit, and we departed in good spirits.

As we glided gracefully down the Yukon River in our boat heading home, my Cheyenne friend said, "Howard, you have connections, don't you!" I asked, "What do you mean, connections?" He went on to say he knew that a couple days before that I had gone into another room to pray and that was why it was possible for this event not only to have happened, but also to have been so successful.

I said, "Yes, I guess you might say I have connections with the Creator God, but I pay my phone bills. You too could have the same connections with Him, but you need to pay your phone bill because you are disconnected right now."

There are hundreds of outstanding Indian men and women like my Cheyenne friend who are great and wonderful people but who have disconnected themselves from God's friendship, strength, and love. How does one hook up their personal line of communication with God? The answer is quite simple. One can come to know God the same way one would seek out a new friend. If you want a good friend, you have to work on that friendship if it is to last. In order to grow, a friendship requires time, effort, and commitment.

Coming to know the joy of God's relationship with me has taken years; it is a friendship worth keeping. It has made the difference in helping me triumph over trials, have hope to overcome the feelings of hopelessness, and gather the strength to go on when there was none to be found.

In working with Native American people for many years, I have found that my personal relationship with Heavenly Father has been profound. There have been so many negative situations, from ill health to inner turmoil, that have attempted to block my efforts, but so many times the strength and courage to go forward has come directly from Him.

To those who seek to know there is a God, I affirm that He lives, He listens, and He cares. I want to leave these few words of encouragement with those needing to connect their lives with God. To get to know the Creator God as a friend, you must treat Him as such. It requires having daily conversations with Him. Share your feelings, your concerns, your dreams and desires. When you are down and feel alone, pray to Him for strength and comfort. He is the mighty one who never departs as a friend, only we do!

If you want a loyal friend, you must construct experiences that will cause your friendship to grow. Our Heavenly Father is one true friend who will never leave us in times of need. My experiences with God have been memorable over the years. He has seen me through difficult decision-making times, heartbreak and tragedy, failure and sickness. He has been there to witness my successes and triumphs. I have felt many times He has been pleased with my little efforts to reach out to our Native American young people

There is a phone line extended to each of us. There is an invitation given to all to call home. There will be an answer. All prayers to God are answered somewhere, sometime in our lives. He may put us on hold for awhile as we struggle, but perhaps it may be the wait that will be the best for us, perhaps a challenge confronting us will make us stronger and result in a better person in the end.

Sometime later I was in Anchorage attending a Native gathering where my Cheyenne friend was the master of ceremonies. He saw me enter the room. He announced my presence and asked if I would say a few words to the people gathered. I went up to the microphone and told the Indian audience about how important it was to have our personal phone lines connected to the Heavenly Father. I turned to my Cheyenne brother and he smiled, nodding his head in total agreement!