Many, many years ago, Momonsacqweo (Mom-on-soch’-we-ō) became the Chief of the Wamesit (Wam-e-sit’) Indians. The Tribal Council saw in him the qualities of a true leader and chose him to lead them. However, Momonsacqweo did not see himself as either the strongest or wisest of his people. Just the thought of being the Chief drove him out on a vision quest. When he returned, he spent three days in a sweat lodge. There he met the Great Spirit within him.
Momonsacqweo opened his heart to receive the wisdom from the Great Spirit. Surely, this would make him a great leader. However, the Great Spirit said nothing. Momonsacqweo humbled himself before the Great Northeast. Each brave carried heavy burdens of game. They crossed a river and climbed a field of sharp stones. When they got to the forest above, one brave’s old moccasins were torn to shreds and his feet were covered with small cuts. Momonsacqweo saw the fresh blood in the snow and ordered the braves to stop. 
When he found the brave with the tattered moccasins, he took off his own and made him put them on. The brave protested, but Chief Momonsacqweo insisted. Again, the words just came out of his mouth, “Welcome, Welcome!” The brave thanked him and said, “You truly are a great leader!” Momonsacqweo smiled and led them back to the village, walking through the snow.
That winter went well for the tribe and Chief Momonsacqweo. Every time something was needed, Momonsacqweo knew what to do and the words were spoken, “Welcome, Welcome!” Soon the others in the village began to pay attention to these words, for they seemed to be magical. After a while, they started finding themselves saying, “Welcome, Welcome!” A strong unity and harmony developed in the village. Everyone worked better together than ever before.
Toward the end of winter, a scouting party spotted a band of Squamscot warriors, a neighboring tribe from up North. They were moving toward their village. The braves urged Chief Momonsacqweo to lead them into battle. However, Momonsacqweo told them they were not to paint their faces for war. The Wamesit rode out to meet the advancing Squamscot. By mid-day, they met. The Squamscot were just coming out of the forest on one side of a clearing and the Wamesit on the other side. Both tribes stopped and studied the other in silence. The tension was high for the snow of this field could soon be red with blood. Momonsacqweo broke the silence. He shouted, “Welcome, Welcome!” Slowly the Chief of the Squamscot rode forward and Momonsacqweo rode forward to meet him. The warriors stood ready.
Momonsacqweo learned that the hunting was poor for the Squamscot and the winter was harsh. They were out of food and the people were starving and sick. Of course, Momonsacqweo said the words, “Welcome, Welcome!” He then led the warriors back to his village and loaded them up with food and blankets. There was no war that day. Instead, a friendship was formed, a friendship which became the Confederacy known as the Pennacook Indians. Momonsacqweo truly became a great leader.
Spirit and asked, “O, Great Spirit, give me wisdom that I might be a great leader before my people.” However, the Great Spirit said nothing and looked silently at him. Momonsacqweo didn’t know what to ask him. He blurted out, “I asked you wrongly! But what should I ask?” The Great Spirit said nothing.
For over a day, Momonsacqweo sat staring at the Great Spirit, who looked at him patiently. Then Momonsacqweo saw a small spider come under the skins of the sweat lodge. It stopped before the Great Spirit and seemed to give its self up to Him. The Great Spirit picked up the spider and said something to it. He then sat down the spider, and it proudly walked away. Momonsacqweo learned from the spider and gave himself up to the Great Spirit, “O, Great Spirit, take me and do with me what you will.” The Great Spirit held out his arms and said, “Wingapo, Wingapo!” meaning Welcome, Welcome! Momonsacqweo fell into the embrace of the Great Spirit.
When the Great Spirit let him go, Momonsacqweo stood
waiting for instructions or empowerment. However, the Great Spirit said nothing else and started to leave. Momonsacqweo said to Him, “Is that it? ‘Welcome, Welcome!’” The Great Spirit turned back and said, “That’s it!” With that, He faded from his Awareness. Momonsacqweo didn’t know what to think. He sure didn’t feel prepared to be the Chief of the tribe. However, the vision quest was over, and he had to be the leader.
Within a few days, Momonsacqweo had his first challenge. A young brave called to him from outside his hut. Suddenly, he heard himself saying the words, “Welcome, Welcome!” The young brave opened the flap to the hut and stepped in. Chief Momonsacqweo invited him to sit down. The young brave told him about his dilemma. The other braves chose him to go on a scouting party, but he had no pony. Momonsacqweo could see the problem. What is a young brave without a pony? He took him outside and gave him one of his ponies. 
The young brave could not believe it and thanked him many times. Then the words came out of Momonsacqweo’s mouth again, “Welcome, Welcome!” The young brave took his arm and said, “You truly are a great leader!” Momonsacqweo was flattered, but this was nothing.
The next week the snow came early, and Momonsacqweo led the braves out on a hunting party. They needed to lay up food for the winter. They hunted deep into the hills, many miles from the village. The game seemed to know their need and gave themselves up to the braves. They were out for many days and they were ready to return. The sky was gray, and the wind shifted into the Northeast. Each brave carried heavy burdens of game. They crossed a river and climbed a field of sharp stones. When they got to the forest above, one brave’s old moccasins were torn to shreds and his feet were covered with small cuts. Momonsacqweo saw the fresh blood in the snow and ordered the braves to stop. When he found the brave with the tattered moccasins, he took off his own and made him put them on. The brave protested, but Chief Momonsacqweo insisted. Again, the words just came out of his mouth, “Welcome, Welcome!” The brave thanked him and said, “You truly are a great leader!” Momonsacqweo smiled and led them back to the village, walking through the snow.
That winter went well for the tribe and Chief Momonsacqweo. Every time something was needed, Momonsacqweo knew what to do and the words were spoken, “Welcome, Welcome!” Soon the others in the village began to pay attention to these words, for they seemed to be magical. After a while, they started finding themselves saying, “Welcome, Welcome!” A strong unity and harmony developed in the village. Everyone worked better together than ever before.
Toward the end of winter, a scouting party spotted a band of Squamscot warriors, a neighboring tribe from up North. They were moving toward their village. The braves urged Chief Momonsacqweo to lead them into battle. However, Momonsacqweo told them they were not to paint their faces for war. The Wamesit rode out to meet the advancing Squamscot. By mid-day, they met. The Squamscot were just coming out of the forest on one side of a clearing and the Wamesit on the other side. Both tribes stopped and studied the other in silence. The tension was high for the snow of this field could soon be red with blood. Momonsacqweo broke the silence. He shouted, “Welcome, Welcome!” 
Slowly the Chief of the Squamscot rode forward and Momonsacqweo rode forward to meet him. The warriors stood ready.
Momonsacqweo learned that the hunting was poor for the Squamscot and the winter was harsh. They were out of food and the people were starving and sick. Of course, Momonsacqweo said the words, “Welcome, Welcome!” He then led the warriors back to his village and loaded them up with food and blankets. There was no war that day. Instead, a friendship was formed, a friendship which became the Confederacy known as the Pennacook Indians. Momonsacqweo truly became a great leader.
He passed this legacy on to his children. Momonsacqweo’s son, Passaconnaway, eventually lead the Pennacook in his father’s footsteps. Passaconnaway was the Indian that made peace with the Plymouth Colony. It was his son, Wanalancet, who found Joshua under the Puritan missionary John Eliot. Each generation passed on the magic of the “Wingapo, Wingapo!” meaning Welcome, Welcome!
If you don’t believe it, try it and you’ll see.