Animal Rights/Vegan Activists' Strategies Articles



Veganism and the Grandchildren's Commandments

From Million Vegan Grandmothers
October 2022

"As Vegan Grandmothers, we are here to midwife the birth of the new compassionate human and bring in the new era of a vegan ahimsa world so that our children and grandchildren and those of all species can thrive and be free."

Learn more about Million Vegan Grandmothers.


Art by Tami Hay

The moment a grandchild is placed in our arms, or we see the babies of other species, we remember what Jesus spoke, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Let us rise in these commandments.

Veganism and the Grandchildren's Commandments:  

  1. Thou shall not kill our family
  2. Thou shall protect ALL life, earth, and water, so we can grow up big and strong 
  3. Thou shall not lie to me
  4. Thou shall not exclude me from truth-teachings and activism
  5. Thou shall walk with me, and share my child-spirit wonder and joy 
  6. Thou shall be playful as we enter the kingdom as children
  7. Thou shall not be afraid 
  8. Thou shall protect all creatures, dominion as authentic caretakers
  9. Thou shall be the children of light
  10. Thou shall remember they have a Divine vegan heart; they do not want to deliberately harm anything and shift to veganism as a spiritual daily practice!

The grandmothers and grandchildren have arrived, rebirthing a chrysalis of butterfly effects, butterfly kisses and more whispers of forgiveness, into a spiritual practice of veganism. 

The touch of the elder mothers is infused with the purest unconditional love ever felt.

Never on planet earth has there been such a force to be reckoned with, a power of infinite love that resounds through the canyons and grottos.

The Grandmother’s vibration of liberation is upon us. We are arriving!

By the year 2026, the prophecy will be known to ALL.

Until then. . .

Make me a lighthouse 
The kind that cuts through all mist and grief so dense
Even fog horns cannot sound

Make me like a child
With wondrous dancing eyes
And a compassionate playful heart

Make me a tree
The kind that builds chlorophyll light and shade of rooted community
Swirling and dances of rustling leaves
Sounds like water 
Baptizing the poplar woods of morning beaconing

Of sienna reds in ringing ancient cedars
That have laid their grief down
Beside their tied root families

Resting compost sapling from hundreds of years ago…
 now new mycelium dances
Into the forever microbial bath
Running away
Downstream
With our melting eyes
As the grandmothers rise!


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