Raven and the Box of Daylight (A Tlingit Creation Story from the Pacific Northwest)

Today I would like to share a story about how a clever and mischievous trickster figure felt that light must be brought to the world for the benefit of all. A tale that tells us that even in darkness, cleverness and compassion can bring light.

Long ago, before the world knew light, everything was swallowed by darkness. There was no sun to warm the land, no moon to guide the night, and no stars to inspire wonder. The people lived in the pitch black, groping through life, never knowing that light even existed.

But light did exist, locked away in a distant lodge by a powerful and selfish chief. He possessed three sacred boxes: one held the stars, another the moon, and the last, the mighty sun. These he kept hidden deep inside his home, hoarding them like treasures, refusing to share their beauty or warmth with the world.

Watching from the shadows was Raven, a shapeshifter, a trickster, and a spirit being of immense intelligence. He was moved by the people's suffering. Though Raven often played pranks and caused mischief, he also held a deep sense of justice. He decided that light must be freed.

Raven knew brute force would fail. So, he turned to cunning.

He learned the chief had a daughter who often came to drink from the stream near the house. Raven transformed himself into a single pine needle and floated downstream. As the young woman drank, she unknowingly swallowed the pine needle. Raven took root inside her and, in time, was reborn as her child, now a baby boy, the chief's own grandson.

The chief, overjoyed by the birth of his grandchild, spoiled the boy with affection. Raven, in his new form, grew quickly. He was loud, demanding, and persistent. He cried day and night, always wanting to play. When he pointed to the box of stars and wailed, the weary chief finally gave in. The boy pried open the lid, and the stars soared into the sky like sparks, scattering light across the heavens.

Later, the child cried again, this time for the second box. The chief hesitated, but who could resist the cries of a grandson? He gave the boy the moon. Raven opened the box, and the moon rose into the night sky, casting a soft, silvery glow over the earth.

But the final box, the box of daylight, the chief guarded most fiercely. Raven cried harder. He screamed, threw tantrums, refused food. Days passed. At last, the chief surrendered, lifting the lid on the last box and giving it to the child.

Raven seized the moment. With the box of daylight in his arms, he transformed back into his bird form. His feathers shimmered, and in one swift motion, he flew upward, clutching the sun in his beak. He darted through the smoke hole in the roof and soared into the sky.

As Raven flew across the world, he released the sun. Light flooded the earth. Shadows fled. Mountains, rivers, and trees were revealed for the first time. The people looked up in awe, seeing the world truly for the first time.

From that day on, light belonged to all.

And though Raven returned to his tricks and wanderings, the people never forgot his gift, the light he stole not for power or glory, but so that all beings could live in warmth and wonder.