I remember the day when I walked across the open prairie with my head held high and my feathers blowing in the wind. The soldiers saw only my silhoutte against the sky. I walked slowly toward them, my arms extended from my side, palms facing them in a gesture of peace. I watched the waves of love emanate forth from my hands, as powerful as the love I expressed before and after Golgotha...

The soldiers shot me dead.
I knew they would.