In the old days, when Hawaiians wanted to give a gift, they doesn’t have Safeway. Or any money. They had to take from nature what the gods gave them. Gather the flowers, make the twine, string the flowers. Lots of time and effort. We do the work just to say, ‘I love you.’ No meaning when we buy a lei in the supermarket.

Aloha. It meant welcome and homecoming. It meant love.

Hawaiians believe a baby's name should tell you what that person will grow up to be.

Land meant something different in Hawai'i then it did in California. People here said the word with a kind of worship in their voices.

We gave away our land and our water-ka wai ola, our life source. But we forgot to tell the haole they should love then like we do. That the streams are our brothers. That the earth is our mother.

They took our land, then they took our water. But Hawaiians lost more then that. The haole took away our pride. They called us 'natives'. They told us our language was no good, that our gods were evil.

People act differently to racial cruelty. Some hit back. Others find it difficult to trust anyone who looks like their persecutors

In California she might have been called fat. But that was not a word Kate would have used to describe her. She had what Hawaiians called Mana. It meant spiritual power, a kind of inner strength people were drawn to.

In the old days, when Hawaiians wanted to give a gift, they doesn't have Safeway. Or any money. They had to take from nature what the gods gave them. Gather the flowers, make the twine, string the flowers. Lots of time and effort. We do the work just to say, 'I love you.' No meaning when we buy a lei in the supermarket.

The music started up. Mehana called out the verse, and Kate glided into the first kaholo, losing her self in the dance.