Pele

Aloha! My name is Hiʻiaka, and the warm, fragrant air of the Hawaiian islands is my home. I live with my powerful sister, Pele, who is as fiery and unpredictable as the volcanoes she commands. One sunny morning, as Pele slept under the shade of a coconut tree, she asked me to make a very important promise, a promise that would begin the great story of Pele and Hiʻiaka. She asked me to travel to a faraway island to bring back a handsome chief she had met in her dreams.

I agreed to help my sister, but I had one condition: she had to protect my beautiful, green forests of ʻōhiʻa lehua trees while I was away. Pele promised she would. My journey was long and hard, across sparkling seas and over tall mountains. I faced many challenges, but I kept my promise to my sister in my heart. But Pele has a temper as hot as lava! Back home, she grew impatient and imagined I was keeping the chief for myself. Her jealousy erupted, and in a great wave of fire, she sent lava flowing down the mountainside, burning my precious forests to the ground.

When I returned, my heart broke to see my beloved trees turned to black, hardened rock. I was so sad and angry with my sister for breaking her promise. Our story is one of big feelings—love, jealousy, and forgiveness. We learned that even when we are angry, our actions have consequences. But our story is also about hope. From the cooled lava, the very first plant to grow back is always a brave little ʻōhiʻa lehua sprout, reaching for the sun. Its beautiful red flower looks like a little flame, a reminder of my sister’s power, but also of nature's strength to heal.

A Story That Lives On
Today, when people see the steam rising from the Kīlauea volcano, they say it is Pele's breath. Hula dancers tell our story with their graceful movements, sharing the tale of our journey and our love for the islands. This myth helps us remember that even after destruction, there is always new life and new beginnings. It teaches us to respect the awesome power of the earth and reminds us that the bonds of family, like the ʻōhiʻa lehua on the lava, are strong enough to grow back even after the fire.