![\"There](\"http:\/\/navajopeople.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/01\/There-is-no-food-720x536.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n\u00a0There is no flour nor cornmeal to make into bread,<\/strong> There is no food. We ate it. There is food at the Trading Post, but the Trading Post is far away and snowdrifts and snow clouds are heavy between<\/p>\n There is food at the Trading Post but my father has nothing leftof the hard, round money that he must give to the Trader for the food: Then it is time to eat, we talk of other things, . but not of hunger. Source : “Little Herder in the Winter” by Ann Clark 1940<\/em><\/p>\n Illustrated by:<\/em> Linguistics by:<\/em> Navajo People Website Links:<\/strong> \u00a0There is no flour nor cornmeal to make into bread, ‘There is no coffee that my mother could boil for us to drink. There is no food. The corn my father planted in his field is gone. We ate it. There was so little. The corn pile in the storehouse was not high enough […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[97],"tags":[482,481,71,483,61],"class_list":["post-1349","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-navajo-language","tag-coffee","tag-cornmeal","tag-food","tag-little-herder","tag-trading-post","entry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/navajopeople.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1349","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/navajopeople.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/navajopeople.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/navajopeople.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/navajopeople.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1349"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/navajopeople.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1349\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1360,"href":"https:\/\/navajopeople.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1349\/revisions\/1360"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/navajopeople.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1349"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/navajopeople.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1349"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/navajopeople.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1349"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n‘There is no coffee that my mother could boil for us to drink.<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nThe corn my father planted in his field is gone.<\/p>\n
\nThere was so little.
\nThe corn pile in the storehouse was not high enough to last for long.
\nIt is gone.
\nNow all of it is gone.
\nThere is no food.
\nThere is food at the Trading Post in sacks and in boxes, in bins and in cans on the shelf.<\/p>\n
\nThere is no food here in my mother’s hogan.<\/p>\n
\nThis thing called hunger is a pain that sits inside me.
\nAt first it was little, but now it grows bigger and bigger.’
\nIt hurts me to be hungry.<\/p>\n
\n Hoke Denetsosie<\/em><\/p>\n
\nJohn P. Harrington<\/em>
\nRobert W. Young<\/em><\/p>\n
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