Think of breaking horses in the old west, and what is the picture that comes to mind?  A tall, strong cowboy is probably the first image that you have.  That image was shattered for me one day as I sat with my grandmother and asked her, "What was your favorite thing to do when you were a young girl?"  I was in for a shock when, after a few minutes, she answered, " I loved to break wild horses."  Suddenly, I realized my entire concept of my grandmother had been wrong.  I had always known her as a sweet little lady who liked to read her bible, teach Sunday school, crochet, cook, and care for her grandchildren.  I had never associated the personality of a tough cowgirl with my grandmother.  Although she stood only four feet, eleven inches tall, everyone called her "Big Mother," and now that name made perfect sense.  I knew that there was another side to my grandmother that I had just discovered, a fiery spirit and "gumption," the word that Texans associate with people who are spirited and brave.

     My next question brought even more surprises.  Having, all my life, listened to stories about the first Thanksgiving, and how the Indians had helped the pilgrims, my distorted view of the relationship between the white people and the Indians was about to be changed forever.  "Did you see any Indians?  Did you like them?" I asked excitedly.  Without a moment's hesitation, my sweet, kind, loving grandmother, said, " I hated the Indians!"  Shocked, I asked her why she felt that way.  " They kidnapped white children and came into our house and took all of our food!"  Big Mother answered with a look of disgust on her face that I had never before seen.  I sat silently, not knowing what to say about the strong emotions my question had caused.  

     Now, these many years later, when, I have come to know how the white man stole the Indians' land, destroyed their food sources, and killed or imprisoned their people, it makes sense that Indians thought they had a right to my grandmother's food because they were probably starving.  Even if I had known this then, I don't think my grandmother would have understood if I tried to tell her.  Her reaction helped me understand how rigid the beliefs of both sides must have been and why there was never a lasting peace or a good outcome of the relationship between Indians and white people in America.