The ending of the story was very abrupt, when Mom said, “The end” (Na mset). With no questions asked, we went about our business, and Mom served a lunch to everyone. Annie lit her oil lantern, and went home after the social lunch. Trailing behind her family dog, her dim light faded into the darkness.
The sickness that was prophesied and spoken about so long ago in the early spring morning was alcoholism. Suicides and the like stem from this disease. The abuse of many drugs that are available within easy reach only add to the dilemma of excessive drinking. It is the vicious cycle of alcohol abuse I see as a poisoned arrow inflicted into the core of minds and spirits. The same can be said for abusing drugs.
In order to stay away from abusing drugs and alcohol, my people must learn to fight their greatest enemy. And that enemy is themselves. Like it says in an Indian prayer, “Help me fight my greatest enemy — Myself.” Our aboriginal spiritual traditions can play a major, positive role for a large percentage of persons who want to live sober, contented lives. Mawiomis gatherings, if attended with open minds and hearts, can and will bring about feelings of high self-esteem.
The Law of Nature disallows unnatural substances to be put in our bodies. If we are lucky to survive, then we will have to abide with this natural rule. If we abuse alcohol or drugs, we abuse ourselves. If we abuse ourselves, we are likely to abuse the forces that are out there ready to harm us. To abstain from the harmful alcohol and drugs is to be ready to work really hard in order to live a life of sobriety. Living a life of contentment is called for by the great law of nature.
Bella’s prophecy had all come true. Her most eloquent words that were spoken in the past will echo into the future. They will be heeded, and I sincerely believe that to be true.
The eight-pointed star is very popular in Mi’kmaq art. It is seen in books, on rings, on clothes and on agenda papers in Mi’kmaq conferences and gatherings. It was during the days of my mom and Annie when they explained that the eight women in the story of Spring Celebration were representing each point of the star (glogowej). Ruth Holmes Whitehead, author of Micmac Quill-work, states, “In 1933 the Nova Scotia Museum’s curator, Harry Piers, interviewed a quillworker, Bridget Ann Sack Gloade, on the origin of this design. Mrs. Gloade, whose family had been making quillwork at least as early as 1797, told him it was the eight-legged starfish, ‘gogwit’.”
There are other interpretations about the eight-pointed star, but I would prefer Mrs. Gloade’s definition because it might be that she was one of the women who took part celebrating the birth of spring so long ago deep in the forest. In any case, the eight-pointed star or the eight-legged starfish stems from the Mi’kmaq legends and mythical tales of my people.
Changes take place at all times in our world. Negative aspects of Bella’s prophecy are taking their toll yet today, through misconceptions of beliefs, identities, and of values, causing many disruptions in the lives of the younger generation. Not being able to pinpoint one’s convictions of who one is, and what one holds as true to one’s self may create a clash within one’s mind and spirit.
It is quite evident and very unfortunate that the Indian Residential Schools were the culprits partaking in the unnecessary, foreign changes forced upon the proud Aboriginal Nations across Canada; First Nations’ languages and spiritual beliefs were weakened, just as the buffalo were shot down to starve the innocent, causing the First Nations’ Peoples to weaken by a sudden change of lifestyle foreign to them.
Time may help to forget, but some things are not erased easily in the minds of the ones who have been so rudely dishonoured. To bring back what is lost is to once again relearn the mother tongue, and also to practice the beliefs once again in order to be proud as a nation should be. These learnings, among many other things — like sharing with each other — will help to rebuild a shattered and broken First Nations world.
I have seen the abused groups and the abuser groups join hands together forming a healing circle, the healing circle that helps each group to forgive. The yet-unborn will someday be thankful for the efforts made to use the healing circle therapy once again.
It is unfortunate that I cannot remember the names of all of the eight women who took part in the Spring Celebration.
The fire-keepers are sometimes appointed, but most of the time, two or three young men volunteer their time to have the sacred fires burning for prayers. From the beginning to the end of Mawiomis, the flame is kept burning. Ronald Wright, again from Stolen Continents, says that “The fires kept burning are merely emblematic of the greater Fire, the greater light, the Great Spirit. I realize now as never before, it is not only for the Cherokees but for all mankind.” The eagle has found its people, and there is no way of turning back its flight. Just as the owl spoke to the eight women to prophesy the negative outcome to the Mi’kmaq, so too has the eagle found its people.
The stage is dismantled where everyone has gone to the dream world, where the empty plate is but a container of cake and bread crumbs. The story room is comfy and cosy while the white cat settles for the night by the warmth of the cast-iron stove. But the clock does not seize up.
Mother and Father had the ability to tell the weather by the sound of the tick-tock of the wind-up clock. The empty rocking chair has given up its squeak until the next time it is used. The spittoon is covered over with a flat piece of cardboard. One of the two lamps is blown out, and the other is dimmed very low. The dream world has taken over the whole family. Even the dog is asleep beside the family’s pet cat.
Deer Girl and Gentle Turtle
On a Sunday afternoon in the days of story telling my family, consisting of Mom, my younger sister, my two brothers, and our neighbour, Annie, decided to go for a stroll. Dad stayed at home to finish of some of his baskets that he was making. Our early evening summer’s walk was an adventure that lasted for about an hour an a half. I call it an adventure because we had met up with a wild black bear.
It began when we as children ran ahead to play in the puddles on the road. We were warned by Annie and Mom to join them quickly. Feeling a sense of danger nearby, we joined our elders for protection. They told us that a bear was not too far away from where we were standing. Without any hesitation or questions asked, we ran home as fast as we could. Father owned a German Mauser rifle that he used for hunting bears and large-antlered moose.
Annie, being a story teller, had sensed the bear with its distinctive odour. And sure enough, in the late night, a cry of a baby bear was heard that made the dogs bark into the wee hours of the next morning.
In the safety of home, we gathered about in an area where the theatre is to be prepared without us knowing. We knew that the story teller for tonight was the tobacco chewing narrator, Annie. She was a small woman who combed her hair all back with a bun. She wore her dresses and skirts long to reach her ankles. Sometimes she wore a black shawl with black fringes hanging down to swing freely.
With a twinkle in her eyes, she told us to stay awake, “for this story is one that will stay with you for a long time to come.” And we believed her. In her own dignified way, Annie held much wisdom, and was a friend to the family for years.
At the center of the room was a wood stove with a pile of wood beside it. Two oil lamps were lit up and placed on the shelf beside the pantry door. And next to the clock was a crucifix that had been in the possession of the family for a long time. Three light brown chairs and one rocking chair had set the stage well, along with a wooden bench, and on it a light feather pillow looked to be a comfortable place to sit. A large hardwood table made of ash and maple was covered with a bright coloured table cloth. There were cups and plates placed on the table for lunches to be served later of foods like tea, cake, and lusgnign.
The dangers of bears faded away and we felt safe. Our family dog Blinky and Annie’s canine — I think his name was Speedy — watched so intently through the long night.
Annie’s opening line was, “I will now tell a story. (Nana nige atugwei.) On this our Native land, deep in
to the deep forest, there lived a family of four Mi’kmaq people.” She then held her hand over her head for a second or two, instantly drawing attention. Annie had to deliberately use body language to let us know that she was ready to deliver her story-telling expertise.
With a twinkle in her eye she spoke. “A mother, a father, and a set of twin girls with long shiny black hair lived in a birch bark wigwam. They owned a family pet racoon whose name was Racoon (Amaljigwej).”
Superstitious-like magic partly led the lives of the family and their community. Dreams interpreted into their reality world where perceptions were expected to be believed was a way of life. There are many reasons in the Mi’kmaq world of long ago why night dreams were depended upon. The main reason is to know and carefully foresee what is ahead in order to survive in the harsh lands for all hunter gatherers.
Story teller (Atugwewinu) rocked in the rocking chair, as she told about what took place in her episode. “The twin girls’ names were Deer Girl and Gentle Turtle. The night before they were born their parents had dreams that were identical to one another. It was predicted there that a pair of twin girls would be born to them during the full moon phase.
“As they both walked along the river bank, they stopped to pick some sweetgrass that was growing there. The reflections of their faces in the water spoke to them. And these are the words that their mirrored faces on the surface of the water told them. ‘Tonight when the full moon is high, you will become the parents of two beautiful girls. The first born to you, you will name her Deer Girl. Ten minutes later, your second daughter. You will name her Gentle Turtle.’”
There was a sudden distraction in the small dimmed family-theatre room. Blinky barked with the sound of a cry coming from a baby bear deep into the black forest. Daddy brought his gun down from the gun rack made from antlers of a large male deer. He placed the gun down on the floor beside his spittoon. Speedy’s barks faded away into the woods with Blinky’s. And we got our composure back once again.
Atugwewinu got back to her interpretation of the Deer Girl and Gentle Turtle presentation and said, “But there is a warning for you: when your two daughters reach the age of ten, they will suddenly leave home, and away from you forever. I will not speak to you again, for this is a vision. And this prophecy will not be repeated.”
Atugwewinu closed her eyes as though she was in deep thought as she rocked back and forth slowly in her rocking chair. Annie paused as she chewed her chewing tobacco, then she spat into the spittoon, and said, “The two beautiful twin girls grew up very quickly. With much love and caring from their parents through the short years they have reached their adulthood at the young age of ten. As they played about with their family pet, Amaljigwej, they did not seem to be too concerned about what was to be expected of them. It was as though anything that a dream tells to guide toward survival was all that mattered to all the people concerned at that time long ago. Nevertheless, everyone lived their lives quite comfortably.”
Annie, exchanging a few words with Mom, signalled to us that it was time to take a break. Hearing the rattling of dishes we became quickly alert for a lunch that Mom was to dish out. I took a quick glance at the holy picture, and for a moment it scared me. After we had eaten the blueberry pie with milk, the fear of the picture left me.
Gathering her thoughts once again, she continued on from where she had left off about the twin girls. “Time has now come for Deer Girl to leave home. It was a time to live up to what was foretold in two separate dreams.” And the clock on the shelf tick-tocked more loudly than usual, it seemed.
“Deer Girl ran to her mom and her dad to kiss them farewell. There were no tears, just a brief sense of acceptance. She ran into the thick, darkening woods. About ten minutes later, Gentle Turtle did the same. And as she was holding her mom and dad in her arms, high winds rose and heavy rains fell. The parents did not make any attempts to stop the two maidens from leaving so abruptly. But like any caring parents, they worried because their dreams did not explain what was to take place next.”
For a second or two, Annie said nothing. It was as though she was rethinking to keep her story in order. Blinky and Speedy were barking continuously back in the forest. Cries of the wild like the sounds of the loons in the meadow joined in harmony with the barking dogs.
Atugwewinu finally spoke and said, “It was all a special duty that had to be performed, and a moral obligation on the part of the girls, with no questions asked. No words were spoken as the wind blew against the pretty young faces of Deer Girl and Gentle Turtle. Their eyes teared with drops of rain as it fell against their bodies with each gust of wind that did not let up. But Deer Girl had to run toward the river bank. And her sister ran where the spruce tress grew. Tiredness came upon each of them as they scurried against the force that they did not have any control of — a force so strong that it did not allow them to go on into their unknown planned venture.
“At the edge of the river bank,” Annie said, “Deer Girl was too exhausted to go on. And she fell asleep through all of the rain storm that came so unexpectedly. The water from the river and the rain rushed against the rocks beside her, while her sister slept under the large crowded spruce tree grove.
“And another day had begun over the whole world.
“Morning came and the sun shone brightly. Mother and Father looked around for their daughters, but knowing they would be unable to find them, went about their daily chores at the wigwam. They both looked up to see a pretty little deer coming over the hill by their home. And at their path to the wigwam a turtle of many earthly colours moved slowly towards them. Mother spoke and said to her husband, ‘Our children are animal-human people.’ ‘Yes,’ said father. ‘But we must not feel distressed.’”
The swaying of the shadow on the flowery wallpaper wall gave an indication that Annie was bringing to her mind the context of her narration. With a mischievous smile on her face she stood up to see if she still had an audience. She must have had someone listening, but I was hearing and absorbing every word she was saying. Atugwewinu pointed to the ceiling with her index finger. And automatically, there was quietness every time she played that stance.
I heard her high-pitched gentle voice saying, “The family of four reunited once again. But there were two worlds, one of human and the other of animal combined. The parents had no other offspring.
“One day,” said Annie, “Deer Girl and Gentle Turtle both became ill. The folks in the community tried desperately to bring the animal-humans back to good health. They had failed to do so, and the animal-humans died in their sleep.
“Feeling much sadness, the people buried them in separate areas. Deer Girl was buried down by the river bank. Her sister, Gentle Turtle, was laid to rest under the shade of the green spruce trees. Parents of the animal-human children wished for a dream to come to them for some kind of direction. They had many dreams, but none of them indicated any follow-up of their dilemma. A few years had passed, and a walk to the grave sites was scheduled.”
I glanced over to Dad, and he was listening with much attention to Annie’s words. Mother was braiding some sweetgrass in the dim light that she was accustomed to.
In my memory lane, Annie is speaking again: “In the days of the twins, the common cold was unheard of, but when colds came upon the Mi’kmaq people, they had found remedies to cure them.
“More serious diseases like diphtheria infected Mi’kmaq children. Deer Girl contributed to the treatment of this very serious disease when the Creator made alders grow plentiful at her grave site. Today we see alder bushes growing everywhere in this country. They also grow down at the river bank.
“It was during the scheduled visit to where Deer Girl was resting in peace that the parents discovered a great amount of alders. They scraped the bark and brought it home for future use.”
According to Laurie Lacey, who wrote Micmac Medicines — Remedies and Recollections, the Mi’kmaq “… steeped the bark from the alders in water and used the tea to treat stomach cramps,
kidney ailments … also a common … remedy for diphtheria.” So the medicine alder was probably considered to be a remarkable gift for the ill.
Annie told us now how Gentle Turtle contributed to her people. “The second visit was to the spruce trees direction. When they arrived there they chewed the gum off the spruce trees there. They picked a few handfuls of the gum. Then they placed it into their medicine beaded pouches for future use, perhaps for the summer months when bugs and flies are plentiful.” The spruce gum is Indian medicine also.
Laurie Lacey says, “A combination of spruce gum and lamb’s fat was used to make a salve. The spruce gum was boiled in oil. The coating which appeared on the surface on the water was removed and mixed with the lamb’s fat.” Mom used this remedy whenever open sores would get infected, usually from scratching the mosquitoes bites. Gentle Turtle’s medicinal gift to her people was very useful, indeed!
Besides chewing tobacco, Atugwewinu enjoyed smoking it. Reaching into her apron pocket she brought out her tobacco pipe. Father handed her a large box of wooden matches. After filling her pipe with pipe tobacco she lit her match and interjected words between puffs. And between these puffs, she said, “Gentle Turtle and … puff … Deer Girl … puff … puff … were given to them a gift … puff… also. They were given seeds from the Creator that grew and multiplied many times over.” Tobacco smoke filled the air that we were used to. I wonder why my elders held their matches burning so close to their fingers before they extinguished it. They would get startled, shake off the flame, and reach for another match, light it up and go through the same procedure all over again. After a hearty laugh, it seemed that a lesson was not learned. For they would do the same thing all over again as before.
The Mi'kmaq Anthology Page 21
