esson 12: The Cauldron

   
ollowing the course of the river, I come to a place where it slopes gently downward into an underground cavern. Being an avid explorer, and having some mental associations with the term "underground stream," I don't hesitate to enter and investigate. The mouth of the tunnel provides enough daylight for me to travel along until I see another light within. I can hear movement, but no voices, and I go to the source.

   In an alcove beside the stream, a huge cauldron is suspended from the ceiling over a healthy fire. Three women dressed in blue tend to it. They are different ages working together. Five men are carved on the wall behind them. They notice my presence and look kindly on me, then the oldest and youngest turn toward the one stirring the cauldron. She passes her stick to the younger, and comes around to greet me. She takes my hand in both of hers and I feel entirely enveloped in love's embrace. "Come," is all she says as she leads me by the hand, out of the bright firelight and into a shadowy side chamber. My hand slips from hers as I advance slowly toward the figure seated there.

   I recognize her from an old painting and she seems a physical oxymoron, seated there all prim and proper in her high-collared prairie dress, smooth black hair pulled up in a bun, exposing her broad face and dark eyes. She looks so serious. I kneel before her and burst into tears.

   "Grandmother¹," I address her, "why did you do it?"
   "Daughter, I think you know. You have made the same sacrifice, for love of a man. But also, I did it for you. My tribe was being decimated--robbed of land and life. I gave you a better life."
   "Please, Grandmother, tell me your true name! My family has searched all the archives of this country. We can discover nothing of your history before you became Mrs. Trawick. Please tell me of my blood."
   "Your blood is in you. What more do you need to know? I have passed on everything of myself to you. History is only words. Knowledge and truth are inside you. When I married the white man, I gave up all the words and names of my maidenhood. But the feelings and truths did not change. These I have passed to you. The future, my daughter, is more important than the past. I know you are enthralled by the past, but it can't be grasped, and it can't be changed, as the future can. My people dwelt too much on the past, and so became part of it. It is for you to become part of a bright and better future. Go now, and create it."
   I kiss her and say: "I love you, Grandmother. Thank you for all you have done and given."
   "I have done and given all for love of you, Daughter."

   
return to the alcove of the cauldron. I'm taken aback by the contrast between stern and stony men and the warm and living women. The crone seems to read my mind, and approaches me saying, "The men are strong to protect us. But you are one of us."

   She reaches toward me and gently takes my heart out of my chest. I stand in suspended animation as she walks over and submerges it in the cauldron. The three join hands in a circle around it a sing a note which reverberates through the cavern. The youngest fetches my heart and returns it to my body. I feel blessed by its warmth, love and life. "Use it well," they say in unison, "and pass it on."

1) Actually, great-great grandmother. {back}