by Ginny Dye
Rose was embarrassed, but too desperate to care much about it. “I’m tired of it!” she burst out. When Abby raised a brow again, she forced herself to explain. “It seems my whole life has been about walking into the unknown. I’m tired of never having a clue what is going to happen next. When does it get easier?”
Abby seemed to hear the desperation in her voice. “When you change how you think about it,” she said, her voice tender but firm.
Rose looked at her as another long silence stretched out. “Would you care to be a little more specific?”
“Both of you are afraid of walking into the unknown because you think it is scary. You are afraid of what will happen when you do.”
“Seems reasonable,” Carrie mumbled.
“It’s not,” Abby assured her. “My life changed when I began to see life as a grand adventure.”
Rose absorbed the words, knowing by the look on Abby’s face that she was imparting a very important lesson. “A grand adventure…”
“Yes,” Abby said. “We have all talked about this before, but I know the step both of you are getting ready to take is bigger than either of you has taken before. You are so lucky!”
“Lucky?” Rose murmured, but she was caught by the light in Abby’s eyes. “You mean that, don’t you?”
“Indeed, I do.” Abby reached a hand out to touch each of their shoulders. “Change used to terrify me, and I got too weary of never knowing what to expect, but now I get excited about it. When I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing—when I am getting ready to walk into the unknown—I have decided to view it as a grand adventure that is going to lead me to amazing places.” She paused and smoothed the folds of her skirt. “As I look back over my life, I see that the most wonderful things happened when I had no idea what I was doing or where I was going. I just kept doing the things I thought felt right at the time. Somehow they all worked out, and now here I am,” she exclaimed. “I am married to Thomas. I have a family I adore.” She reached down to squeeze both their hands. “Slaves are free. I have five factories in two cities that are doing well.” She shook her head. “I could never have dreamed all this on my own. I just kept walking forward.”
“We don’t really have a choice about that, though,” Carrie murmured with a touch of resigned bitterness.
“Oh, but you do,” Abby argued. “I watch people every day who simply stay exactly where they are, insisting that they continue to do exactly what they have always done. Change scares them, so they refuse to change. They allow themselves to become trapped in their lives.”
Rose thought about what Abby was saying, hoping it would bring relief but her insides were still churning.
Abby turned to her. “When you told us about Felicia’s Cocooning Rite, you said she had some important questions. She wonders if the wormy caterpillar can really envision what it will become someday. She asked if they are aware of what is happening when they are enclosed in a cocoon. She wonders if they have any clue that this dark, scary time is the prelude to the most wonderful time of their life.”
“Yes,” Rose murmured with a frown. “I haven’t known what to say to her.”
“The answer is simple,” Abby replied. “It’s no.”
“No?”
“How could a caterpillar possibly know it would become a butterfly when it chooses to be encased by a cocoon? How could it know that by enclosing itself into what must seem like a tomb that it will emerge as a winged creature able to fly?”
Rose shrugged, concerned that she was disappointing Abby with her lack of answers, but too honest to pretend otherwise.
“It can’t know,” Abby pressed. “That caterpillar is simply doing what it was designed to do. Every caterpillar spins a cocoon; it’s not just special ones. It’s not just some. Every caterpillar does what it is designed to do,” she repeated. “Some come out as small moths, while others come out as big yellow swallowtails, or bright blue ones, or any number of glorious colors.” Her eyes were shining. “The difference with humans is that we do have a choice. We choose whether we are willing to walk into the darkness and have our lives transformed.”
Carrie was listening intently. “And because we live longer…” she mused.
“Exactly,” Abby replied. “Because we live longer, we are given the opportunity to choose the cocoon more than once!” She smiled. “The glorious thing is that the more we make that choice, the easier it becomes because we have learned how magnificent the result is.”
Rose managed a smile. “And you know this because you are older, and because you have chosen the cocoon more times than we have.”
“There have to be some benefits to getting older, my dear,” Abby quipped. “I can at least be sure there is a purpose by making walking into the unknown a little easier for those I love most.” She paused for a moment and then faced Rose squarely. “Don’t forget what happened in New York.”
Rose caught her breath. “Sojourner Truth,” she said softly. She had to admit there were times she wished she could forget, but it wasn’t possible.
“Tell me what happened that day,” Abby commanded.
“You already know. So does Carrie.”
“Tell me again.”
Rose knew she was being asked to remember, to put into words what had transpired. She remembered the feeling of awe she had as she watched the elderly woman stand on the stage, a beacon of light to every black person who had ever dreamed of freedom, and to every woman who dreamed of the right to vote. Sojourner Truth had fought what must have seemed like a losing battle for decades, simply refusing to give up. Yet the scourge of slavery had been abolished, and she was now fighting for women’s rights.
“She passed the baton to me,” she finally murmured, some part of her still wishing it weren’t true.
“And you accepted,” Abby said.
Rose nodded. When Sojourner Truth had finished speaking, Rose knew that in the span of sixty minutes she had become a changed woman, ready to do whatever it took to make things better for her people, and for all women in general. She had no idea how it was going to play out in her life, and she had no idea what it would require of her, but she was determined to live with the same passion, dedication and perseverance as Sojourner Truth. How had she so easily let that feeling of certainty go? The answer followed on the heels of the question. Fear.
Rose stared out at the river for a long time as she let the memories wash over her. They strengthened her resolve but didn’t change the sorrow gripping her heart. “I wish we didn’t have to leave everything behind to crawl into the cocoon,” she said sadly.
Carrie squeezed her hand. “That is the hardest part,” she agreed. “It’s still hard for me to believe you are moving to Ohio, and that in one month I will be in Independence, Missouri, waiting to embark on the Santa Fe Trail.”
“You both are about to start grand adventures,” Abby said.
Rose heard something in Abby’s voice that didn’t ring true with the words she was saying. She met Abby’s eyes, probing for what she was suddenly certain was there. “This is almost as hard for you as it is for us, isn’t it?”
Abby sighed but didn’t look away. “Every bit as hard,” she admitted. “You and Carrie are the daughters I never had. The last two and a half years, since the end of the war, have been some of the best of my life. There have certainly been hard times, but having the two of you has made it all worthwhile. I would never stand in the way of either of you moving forward, and I’m happy for both of you, but I will miss you so much it will hurt.”
Rose didn’t miss the shine of tears in her eyes.
Neither did Carrie. “Leaving you is one of the hardest things,” she said. “I’ll be home by fall, but after the war years, I know how heartbreaking it is to be separated from both of you. I’m all for having new adventures, but I wish I could take all the people I care about with me.” Her voice clogged with emotion.
“Me, too,” Rose said.
“Me, three,” Abby added.
*****
The men had all been sequestered in the parlor when Rose pulled the door to the library tightly shut. The furniture had been pushed out of the way to make room for the circle formed with pillows. Chooli had assured her the circle was very important. Every pillow was occupied by the women Felicia had requested for her Cocooning Rite. There was no talking as everyone looked at her expectantly.
The oil lanterns had been extinguished. Dozens of candles created a warm, flickering light that spoke of sacred mystery.
Rose moved into the center of the circle. “We are here tonight for the Cocooning Rite for Felicia Samuels.” She smiled at her daughter, who looked beautiful in a long, soft-blue gown, with a wreath of greenery adorning her head. Carrie had woven dried strands of the most powerful healing herbs through the greenery, signifying connection with the Earth. Felicia returned the smile with an endearing mixture of shyness and confidence. Rose felt her heart swell with even more love as she gazed at the almost-young-woman who had become part of her family only two years before. She could never have guessed what a blessing the shattered girl would become.
“We meet here in a circle tonight because the Great Circle of Life, which comes from the Navajo teachings, is the circle of unity with all things in the Universe, including our Creator, about which all life revolves.”
Rose let her eyes rest on Chooli. The lovely woman was glowing with passion and vibrancy. Chooli was thrilled that Felicia had chosen to have her own rite of passage after they talked about the Navajo ways. Rose had depended on Chooli greatly as she crafted the Cocooning Rite. “Life is a circle of birth, maturity, decay and death. All living things follow this circle in the same cycle. From birth, each of us begins our journey. Life is the path we walk. True wisdom comes when we stop merely looking for it and start living the life the Creator intended for us.”
Rose’s eyes traveled to Carrie as she spoke more of the Navajo beliefs. “When we live our life on Mother Earth, we always walk softly because we know the faces of future generations are looking up at us from the ground beneath us.” She had thought immediately of the Bregdan Principle Biddy had shared with Carrie. Truly, no person could take action that would not have repercussions throughout history.
As her gaze swept the rest of the group, she thought of how fortunate Felicia was to have these women in her life. Her heart caught at the idea of taking her daughter away from them, but then she remembered Abby’s words. Felicia was also walking her path into the unknown. There would be new women waiting for her in Oberlin who would become part of her circle and part of the transformation that was about to occur in their lives.
“Felicia now stands on the threshold of adulthood. She is becoming a woman.”
Rose’s words rang through the room, absorbed by the light of the candles, and then reflected back into the mind and heart of every woman present. The words, spoken for her daughter, were coming full circle to everyone.
“While the Navajo teachings are important to the Cocooning Rite, it is also important to Felicia to incorporate her African roots. During her reading she learned of an African word that symbolizes the life she yearns to live.” Rose had been thrilled when Felicia had come to her with the information. “The word is ubuntu. The core of ubuntu is that a person is a person through other people.” Rose let the words resonate and settle in everyone’s mind. She watched as eyes ignited with understanding. “We create each other. We belong to each other.” Rose paused, her eyes settling on Felicia, who was watching her intently. “You are because we are.”
Felicia grinned. “Ubuntu,” she mouthed silently.
Rose returned the grin and motioned for her daughter to join her. “I have asked Felicia to share what she has learned from her time with all of you over the last ten days. I also asked her to create something that would be a blessing to others. I did not give her any direction, rather, the decision was completely hers.” She turned and gave Felicia a warm hug. “I am so very proud of my daughter.”
Felicia waited until Rose had taken a seat in the circle, and then smiled tentatively. “The last ten days have been the most powerful days of my life,” she began. “When Chooli first told me about Kinaalda, the Navajo rite of passage, I knew I wanted to do something to mark becoming a woman. Just five days ago I discovered the term ubuntu. I understood it immediately because I’d already had five days with the women who have made me what I am.” Her eyes grew sad. “Except my mama, who was murdered. Even though she is dead, I remember everything she ever said to me. Perhaps I will remember it more because she died.” Her voice faltered for a moment. “The thing I most remember is watching her and Daddy being gunned down outside our house during the Memphis riot just for being black. As I watched her die from where I was hiding, I made her a promise that I would do everything I could to make the world safe for all black people.”
Rose’s heart broke as the pain suffused Felicia’s face, but a swell of fierce pride followed as she watched her daughter’s shoulders straighten with resolve. She saw the same emotions on the faces of every woman in the room. Each of them had known great loss and sorrow. Each of them had made their own choices to live with courage and resolve. Her heart surged with gratitude for these women in the circle that surrounded Felicia.
“I believe my mama is watching,” Felicia said. “I can still feel her, and I believe she knows I am becoming a woman. I also believe she knows how each of you have helped me over the last ten days.” Her smile this time was strong and genuine. “All of you have taught me to be a strong woman. I’ve thought so much about what I have learned, and I can’t possibly communicate it all tonight, but I’m going to do my best.”
The silence in the room was palpable. The only sound was the crackling of the flames in the fireplace and the hiss of damp wood.
“I’ve learned that many women don’t want to be powerful because they are afraid of the responsibility. They want someone else to take care of them, even if that means giving up who they are. That is an expected part of this culture, but I’m grateful that I know women who are breaking that mold. My generation has a long way to go, but I’m going to help make it better.” Felicia paused for a long moment. “I’ve learned it’s all right to be afraid, but I don’t have to act afraid. I can choose every day to do the things I believe are right, even if I have to fight through the fear.”
Rose watched as Felicia locked eyes with Marietta, who was giving her a warm smile. She acknowledged that her daughter’s words spoke to her, as well. She could be afraid, but she didn’t have to act afraid. She tucked that truth away for further contemplation.
“I’ve also learned I have to accept life is going to be hard as a black woman.” She smiled slightly as she gazed at her Grandma Annie. “I didn’t like this one, but I know it is true. If I expect anything else, I’m going to be disappointed my whole life. If I accept it now, then I’m ready for it. That means I have to work harder than most other people to be who I want to be.” She shrugged. “I will.”
Her pronouncement rang through the room with blunt clarity.
“I’ve also learned that I don’t have to conform to any rules,” she said defiantly. “I think it’s horrible how many rules there are for people—not just women, but all people. Who in the world made up all these rules? They do nothing but imprison people with ridiculous expectations.” She lifted her head. “I’m not going to let any rules define me.”
Rose watched as the other women lifted their heads, too. She knew, as it was true for her, that every woman in the room was being challenged. It was one thing to know the truth, but it was another to live it on a daily basis. To be reminded by a thirteen-year-old was both humbling and empowering, and a beautiful reminder of the power of women.
“I’ve also learned I have to create my own opportunities.” Her voice grew very serious. “I know I’m going to have many opportunities when we get to Oberlin, but I have to take advantage of them. Mama and Daddy have waited a long time to be able to go to college. They have
put people, including me, before their opportunity to go to school, but it is finally their turn. I also know they don’t regret any decisions they’ve made.”
Rose felt tears well in her eyes as Felicia communicated what they had talked about that afternoon. She had finally found words to share with her daughter.
Felicia paused and her voice became even more grave. “Blacks have opportunities right now because the government is down here making the South give them to us. But everything I’m learning says that might not always be the case. Things might stay better for blacks for a long time, but I wouldn’t count on it. The government is working to protect us right now because it makes political sense, but it probably won’t stay that way.”
Rose felt the atmosphere in the room change as Felicia stated what she believed. As much as she wanted to discount her daughter’s words, her intuition told her to listen closely.
Felicia’s voice remained firm. “I have to take advantage of every opportunity I have now because they may not always be there.” Her voice softened. “I’m sorry. I know that is probably hard to believe coming from someone my age, but—”
“It’s not hard to believe coming from you, Felicia,” Abby said quickly, speaking the hearts of every woman in the room. “I hope you are wrong, but I’m afraid you might be right.”
That acknowledgement seemed to be enough for Felicia. Her smile bloomed again. “I’ve also learned I should search for joy in every place I can. Life will always have hard times, but there will also be times of great joy. I need to embrace every one of them. If you fill your heart up with joy, it makes the hard times easier to bear.”
“I’ve also learned I need to always surround myself with women like all of you. Women are weak when they stand alone, but we can do anything when we do it together.” She paused. “I’ve seen that. It was mostly women that helped free my people. Men passed the laws, but it was women that made them sit up and take notice. It was women that wouldn’t back down. We’re going to do the same thing for women’s right to vote. We have to refuse to ever back down because America will never be what it is supposed to be if it doesn’t have the women’s voice.”
