Long ago, when the world was young, the night sky was dark—so dark that people on Earth could not see their way through the night. First Woman wanted to bring them comfort, guidance, and beauty. She sat with a great sack of shining jewels and began designing the heavens. With patience, she placed each bright jewel into a meaningful pattern. She made the North Star a steady guide for travelers. She shaped the Great Bear, Orion, and many other signs in the sky. Every star would have a name. Every pattern would have a purpose. The heavens would become a map for planting, ceremony, and the journey home. As she worked, Coyote, the great trickster, came wandering by. “What are you doing?” he asked. “I am writing the laws of the universe in the sky,” First Woman replied. “These lights will help the people find their way and know the seasons.” Coyote watched for a moment, then sighed. “This is taking far too long. The sky is enormous, and you are much too slow.” “Good things take time, Coyote,” First Woman said, lifting another jewel into place. But Coyote could not master his impatience. Wanting to leave his own mark upon the world, he snatched the heavy sack from First Woman’s hands. He squeezed his eyes shut, opened his great jaws, and blew into the bag with all his strength. A mighty gust burst from his mouth. The remaining jewels exploded from the sack and scattered wildly across the heavens. They flew in every direction, sparkling like scattered seeds. The careful design was broken. Instead of ordered patterns, the sky filled with a beautiful, tangled mist of lights. Only the constellations First Woman had already finished remained in their places. And so, because of Coyote’s impatience, the map of the night sky was broken forever. The remaining stars could never all be named, and people would have to wander beneath a cosmos both disorganized and beautiful. Yet whenever we look upward, we may remember First Woman’s patience—and Coyote’s lesson: some beautiful things cannot be rushed.
