My mother was a gentle woman with deep faith. Church activities were central to my
childhood. In contrast, the lullabies she sang every night included many Girl Scout
campfire songs, with fairies and witches working their Nature magic.
My mother was a Botanist, so as my Junior Girl Scout leader she taught all of us girls how to identify trees and plants, and we also studied the constellations in the night sky.
My father always needed my help in our vegetable gardens, planting, weeding and
harvesting 75% of the food for our table. His hunting and fishing supplied 50% of our meat/protein.
We raised Brittany Spaniels and pheasants for pheasant hunting.
When I was 12 year old I bought a book on herbal plant identification with my babysitting
money. I learned what parts of common plants were medicinal and how to make herbal
teas. I also borrowed a book from a neighbor titled Wildwood Wisdom, on how to survive
in the wilderness.
Studying these topics and reading every book I could find on Native American life, expanded my sense that there were many ways to live, and other ways to heal ordinary ailments with totally different methods from Western medicine. I didn’t know it at the time, but my great-great grandmother was a Penobscot Native American in Maine. All this was part of a profound spiritual awakening during Sunday school at age twelve.
I began listening with great interest to the minister’s sermons and sang the hymns with my
whole heart. I read and reread the Bible, memorizing many verses. The message I heard
repeatedly, was that Christ knew how to heal the sick and that every ordinary believer can
and should be doing healing work.
I wondered, "Why wasn’t this being done?" Who in my congregation was supposed to teach me these skills? When I was 16 it was my turn to deliver the sermon as part of the yearly Youth Sunday program. I gave a scathing retribution of the failure of the adults to live up to my expectations. Why didn’t adults follow through with what was preached? But the smiles and congratulatory hand shakes
after the service told me that my message didn’t sink in. Nothing changed. I was disappointed.
I spent a lot of time outside on my own during these years, hiking through the corn fields
or climbing trees to watch the stars at night, and asking God all the questions running
through my mind and imagination. Even my gardening chores were filled with reflections
on God’s creation.
There was a deep calmness and peace while sitting on the Earth, a sense that I was heard and that answers were in Nature. The hawk flying above, a fox walking nearby in it’s search for food, the sunlight filtered through the clouds in a streaming beam. One night I noticed a large circle of stars in the night sky above me, that was not a constellation. The Mysteries of the Universe circled all around me. The Creator was watching over me.
When I went away to college I would be sitting around with friends in the evenings and
someone would say, “My neck hurts or my shoulders ache.” I would massage their neck,
shoulders, and back for a few minutes, and in response one person after another would
say, “If you could bottle what you do with your hands, you could make a million dollars.”
One friend had a bike accident and I showed up at her dormitory door not knowing she
was in great pain. I gently laid my hands on her injuries and sat with her for over an hour.
Early the next morning she called and asked to meet for breakfast.
She gave me a necklace and said I had completely healed all her pain and injuries.
I was astonished at first, and then with the repeated confirmation from different people, the sense that sacred energy was available to me and could be directed to help others, grew stronger. 🪶
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