Ziibi sat in the garden that her father cultivated behind the house. Here he grew the herbs and plants necessary for healing. There was cowslip, golden rod, blue cohosh, calamus, strange ferns and plants with names only her father knew. The plants held power, like the bear held power, like all creation held power to heal if harnessed properly. With careful fingers she explored the silky flower head of the nettle. It seemed the plant was communicating with her, telling her of its purpose. It cured things inside the body, things beneath the skin. Its roots could be boiled with other roots to make medicine for the stomach.So absorbed was she in listening to the story of the plant, she failed to hear her father’s step.
“What are you doing?”
Her father’s voice startled her. She leapt to her feet. “I was just listening to the plant.”
A strange expression crossed her father’s face. “You hear the plants?”
By his expression she was not sure if he was angry of if did not believe her. It took a lot of courage for her to say, “Yes.”
He came to her and he took her small hands in his. He turned them palms up and stared at them for a long time. Then, he laced his fingers through hers. She felt his energy enter her body, she also felt something else, she felt her own energy pass into his. He did not speak, and he frowned. He was displeased with her. She did not understand why. He asked, “What did you just feel?”
Ziibi did not know why adults asked questions if they did not want the truth. She could tell by her father’s expression that he wanted her to say nothing. He hoped she would say nothing. Problem was, he had raised her too well for her to lie, to avoid his displeasure. Her voice quavered when she said, “I felt my power join with yours.” In his dark eyes, she saw his fear turn to anger and then to worry. Since she had nothing more to add, she remained silent. He removed his hands from hers.
Only silence passed between them. Ziibi felt fear clutch at her own heart. If she had been born male, her gifts would have been celebrated by her father, but she was not male. The Great Mystery had not blessed her father with sons. Male Mide could perform acts that female Mide were not allowed to do. Plus, her father believed it was more fitting for males to be Mide than females. Finally he said, “I need you to keep an eye on your sister. There is gossip going about and she must not fall into temptation.”
Ziibi replied, “I will, ” even though she resented this request. Miinan was older than her and should be able to keep herself out of trouble.
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Her father knelt down in front of her and said, “I am leaving for my seclusion, and I will need you to use your sharp eyes and ears while I am gone.” He placed his palm on the top of her head. Again she was keenly aware of his power, could she suppress her own? With careful concentration she did just that, unaware that by doing so she had just discovered an even greater power within herself. Her father’s voice trembled a bit when he said, “I have heard you talking to your guardian in the night. I have seen you run down paths in darkness and not stumble or be afraid. I knew you were not alone.” Could he see Mikwam? She could not ask. A Mide revealed only what they were lead to reveal. He continued, “Mide is a hard life for a man, harder still for a woman.”
Was he discouraging her or recognizing her? Ziibi was not sure.
Her father removed his hand from her head. “While I am in my seclusion, I will be seek guidance concerning you.”
This special attention pleased Ziibi. Every year, as a Mide her father must spend time alone in seclusion to restore himself. During that time he prayed and communicated with the healing spirits, he remembered the stories he had been taught, and the remedies he had learned. He also sought new remedies. The most important thing of all for the Mide was to always learn, and to always listen to the things the earth spoke. Ziibi knew that one day, she would be a Mide. A new thought came to her. She could not be a full Mide until her father grew too feeble, or died. She and her mother and sister were his second family. His first family was grown, and his first wife had died long ago. His hair was laced with silver strands that ran the length of his braid. Small wrinkles crossed beneath his eyes and over his forehead. How old was he? She did not know. Her moment of joy turned to fear. It took a long time to learn the healing arts, would he live long enough to teach them all to her?
He told her, “When the Midewiwin meets, I will recommend you.” Ziibi had to be approved by the healers before she could begin her training. “If they accept you, you will be given a guide, to teach you.”
Alarmed Ziibi said, “You can not teach me.”
“Only for a little while. In three summers you will become a woman, and then I will not be able to teach you any more. You must be prepared to be sent to another healer to learn. It may be far away.”
Suddenly Ziibi did not want to be a Mide. She did not want to leave her home or her people. “Where will you send me?”
“I will not send you anywhere. The Midewiwin will choose a female guide for you. They will choose well.”
Ziibi threw herself in her father’s arms. She did not want to leave him. He stroked her hair and said, “There my child, this is not something to sorrow over. When it is time for you to leave, if it is ever time for you to leave, you will be given the strength and courage to do so.” He pried her away from him and cupped her chin in his hand, “You are not Mide yet my child. Many things must come to pass. So do not trouble yourself. Enjoy what each day brings.”
For a long while she stared into her father’s eyes. Never had he gazed at her so intently. The sadness she saw in his eyes concerned her. Before this moment in time, she had only considered the positive side of Mide. She had imagined possessing the power and the ability to heal. Under her father’s gaze she became aware of the other side of healing, the times when medicine failed and bodies did not survive. Bitterness and blame were things the Mide must deal with from a grieving family. There was also the ever-enticing temptation of entering into the darker and destructive side of mystery. All this her father communicated to her without speaking. He slid his hand down the length of her arm and squeezed her hand. “You must keep this between us. Your mother will not be pleased.”
When was her mother ever pleased? She watched her father walk away from her. She knew what her mother wanted. Her mother wanted her to be a good woman, able to do women’s work. She wanted Ziibi to behave herself and learn to care for her future family. She wondered if she would have a family. She did not know any Mide Women. How did they live? What were there lives like?