NOKOMIS TELLS A TALE

 

     NOKOMIS TELLS A TALE

 

 On the April day we met Verna, our seventy-five year old landlady, the smell of rain-soaked cedars was in the air.  Verna was wearing a bulky white cardigan, slacks and rubber boots, as she walked around her property to examine the raspberry canes and see how much underbrushing would be needed.  Short, gray curls stuck out from under a round, fur-trimmed wool hat.  Beaver-like eyes set among freckles and tiers of wrinkles surveyed us, and a violin-scroll smile slowly curled across her face as she welcomed us with a handshake.

            “Welcome to the Cape.”

          No ordinary landlady, she was Verna Patronella Johnston, named Indian Woman of the Year in 1976 by the Native Women’s Association of Canada, author, poet, and subject of a biography, I Am Nokomis, Too by R. M. Vanderburgh. Verna had just moved back to the Cape after having run a boarding house for native students in Toronto.  The boarding house had filled a huge need for native young people suddenly removed from their own culture and thrust into a white city environment.

             We were to rent Verna’s dream home: a furnished two-bedroom bungalow with a stone fireplace in the living room, and beautiful bevelled glass cabinetry dividing the cooking and dining areas of the kitchen.  There were exquisite objects such as traditional hand-woven Cape Croker baskets and a standing sculpture made of diamond willow, resembling a cat, created by Verna’s brother Wilmer, a successful artist.  People would have paid a lot of money to rent such a charming house right on the Georgian Bay, with Lake Huron only a short drive away and miles of beautiful forest and park land all around.  Verna lived next door in her original family home, an old, square stone house – a house less rentable, but filled with memories of the foster children she had raised.

          Verna came to visit later that week.  The muse flowed as she recited her own poetry and a famous Ojibwa prayer. She talked of social and political concerns, on and off the reserve, and of her passion to pass on the ancient crafts of her people to the younger generation.  She told of the legends so dear to her, told to her by her grandmother, and of her own book Tales of Nokomis(Grandmother), in which she had preserved these legends.

          “Won’t you tell us one of the legends?” we asked.

          Verna’s wise eyes danced, and the violin-scroll smile spread across her face, dislodging rows of wrinkles.

          “Certainly!  I’ll tell you The Legend of the Birch Tree:

 

          A long time ago, long before there were people living in this land, the trees could talk to each other.  When they rustled, that was quiet conversation.  But when they bent from side to side in the strong wind, their words were stronger and more important.

          There were many different kinds of trees in the forest.

          The lovely Maple tree had sweet sap to give to the birds when they grew thirsty.  Many birds made nests in her limbs, including the robin, with her pale blue eggs.  Maple kept them safe from wind and rain.  Maple was kind, helpful and highly respected by the other trees.

          The Elm was a tall, graceful tree who spread her branches out evenly all around.  The orioles made their long nests in her boughs, feeling safe so far above the ground.

          Then there was the beautiful Cedar who folded her thick branches around the birds to keep them warm in the winter.

          The lovely Birch tree also grew here. She was slim and graceful, with pure white, soft skin. Her branches were pretty and supple, as she swayed gently in the wind.  In the spring, she had beautiful light green leaves kissed by the sun.  When our people came to this land, they used the beautiful, fair Birch to make their canoes, wigwams and cooking vessels.

          But alas!  Although Birch was fair, she was also proud, and she was soon to learn her lesson.

The handsome evergreen Pine was the king of the forest. To him every tree would bow her head.  He was tall and straight and kingly in his stately dark green attire..

          One sunny summer day, pink, blue and yellow flowers were blooming, and colourful  birds were merrily singing .  The trees were rustling lightly, laughing and chatting amongst themselves.

          Maple suddenly noticed that Birch was not joining in the fun.

          “Are you all right, dear Birch?” asked kindly Maple.

          “I’m fine!” snapped Birch, waving her pale white branches impatiently .  “I never felt better in my life.  But why should anyone as fair as I am bother with the rest of you?  You are all so plain and ordinary-looking.”

          Maple tree was sad, because she knew that Pine would be very angry if he heard.  Not only did he set a good example himself, but he made the other trees behave as well.

          “Hush, Birch.  Do you want Pine to hear you?”

But Birch tossed her branches even more disdainfully and stubbornly.

          “Who cares about Pine?” she said.  “I am fairer than any tree in the forest, and I will no longer bow down to Pine.”

          Pine, who had been taking a nap, awoke with a start on hearing his name.  He shook his sharp needles to arrange them in place, and stretched up to his tallest, most stately height..

          “Tell me, Birch, what were you saying just now?”

All the trees trembled with fear, for they knew their king could become very angry.

          But Birch had no fear.  She calmly swept her graceful limbs from side to side, and answered haughtily:

          “I am no longer going to bow down to you, Pine.  I am the most beautiful tree in the whole forest, more lovely than all the other trees, even you.  All the trees should bow down to me.”

          Pine was very angry, and his branches began to shake.  His heavy blue boughs swayed from side to side.  All the other trees trembled in silence.

          “Birch,” he roared, ”You have become too vain. I shall have to teach you a lesson that you will never forget.”

          He bent way over Birch and switched her fair skin very hard with his sharp needles.

          “May all who see you learn from your example,” he said more quietly.

          If you look closely at the fair white bark of the Birch, you will see fine, brown scars – the price she paid for vanity so long ago.

 

“The heavens declare the glory of God,

 the skies proclaim the work of his hands. 

  Day after day they pour forth speech;

night after night they display knowledge.(Psalm 19:1-2,NIV)

 

…The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy,

making wise the simple,(Psalm 19,7b)

 

Many of us learned wisdom from Aesop’s Fables, which also has a story about pride.  Both Aesop and the Ojibwa, in this story, are reflecting Biblical wisdom:

 

Pride goes before destruction,

A haughty spirit before a fall.(Proverbs 16:18 NIV)

 

God has given the native people much insight into nature, and a unique ability to turn this into a teaching tool for their children.