On the reservation each week, different churches would come to do outreach to the Indians. One week, Baptists would come on Wednesday evening and have their ice cream social, returning on Sunday to offer church services and to reach the souls of the heathens. Then next week, Methodists would come, have a dance during the week, and also return for services. The following week, a similar route: Catholics would arrive with a dinner, then return on the weekend for services. And so it went week after week, group after group.

During this time, a young man goes to his grandfather in confusion.

"Grandfather, you have lived a long life. In my few years on this earth I have come to know your wisdom. Now Grandfather, I come to you for guidance. Each week they come to tell us the right way to live. Baptists tell us their way is the only way to the Creator, Methodists tell us their way is the way to the Creator. Then, Catholics come and say the same. Between these visits I go with Uncle to the Peyote circles and with Father to the sweat lodges. Grandfather, in your wisdom can you tell me which is the path to the Creator?"

The youth's grandfather smiles and says, "The answer you seek is in the teepee." He sends the grandson to investigate the teepee sitting in the grasses.

Grandson walks into the teepee and looks up, seeing the large circle above him the flags flying in four colors above the outside of the teepee, and the sky of the Creator. He sees no answer. He then walks around the inside of the teepee, looking at the many poles it takes to hold up the teepee. He sees thick poles and thin poles. He sees straight poles and poles with imperfections, all leading to the circle at the top of the teepee. He continues examining the skin of the teepee, the many stitches it holds, the way it sits upon the earth, but he sees no answer. ...