Faith’s First Light by Sara Wright

Faith was full of a sorrow so deep that she was drowning. Threatening forces swirled inside and outside her creating an impenetrable cloud that conjured up frightening dreams.

Faith loved animals, especially dogs, birds, and trees. The dogs and birds comforted her on a regular basis. Lately, even the earth beneath her feet seemed to be rising to embrace her, an intricate crocheted net that sometimes pulsed with lights, so why was she so numb? Faith shared her grief with her mother. Otherwise, she remained mute.

  The two lived in a little cabin surrounded by woods. Earth’s four seasons and each cross quarter guided their lives together. Faith imagined these turnings as eight spokes on a wheel, one that was always in motion. Changing. Even with the wheel to guide her Faith was still frightened of change and wished she wasn’t.

 Faith named this turning the “Feast of New Light” because the waxing sun now arced higher in the sky reflecting gilded light over rippling waters. A glittering day star streamed in the windows with an intensity that was missing in the beginning of January. Passionflowers were waking up, sending out new tendrils to explore the living room. There were other names for this time too. Bear’s Day was one. Brigid’s Fire another. Faith fervently wished she didn’t feel so dead as the passage approached.

  Faith’s mother told her that the most important part of every ceremony was creating the ‘sacred space’ before the ritual and that was Faith’s job. When it was time to enact the ceremony beneficent Nature Spirits let them know. 

Faith’s mother also said that Faith’s spontaneous imaginative art was a way to manifest thoughts and intentions in a concrete way.  Faith wasn’t sure she understood what ‘manifesting thoughts and intentions’ meant but she trusted her mother.

Usually, Faith’s mother opened the ceremony with a poem or some piece of writing. Faith was an equal participant during rituals, often blessing the animals, asking for what she needed, giving thanks, and most important, paying close attention to signs and the meaning behind dreams that her mother often missed.

  Always a simple ceremony, the circle was opened, guardians were called in, the four directions were honored, a water blessing was given, intentions were set along with a release, and gratitude was expressed. Only recently had Faith been able to impress upon her mother the necessity of securely closing their circle at the end of the ritual. 

It was a few days before the probable ceremony – the day and time were never fixed – and Faith couldn’t even imagine what to do to create sacred space this year…  Her body felt like lead. 

Listlessly approaching the fading balsam wreath that she and her mother had made together last November the tiny lights still looked like stars that could illuminate any dark night…She’d start here. 

Removing red berries and acorns, Faith left a few pieces of sage tinted lichen, rearranging a few tendrils for balance. Her mother had taught her that lichens were the first beings to generate life on dry land. Faith loved all lichens and thought of them as relatives.  

“Here you are” she said to the bird as she slid open the door for Blue Jay who was dressed in his deep blue waistcoat with striped black tails. Immediately her friend swooped down for the acorns and pecked at withered berries. Scattering more seed for the chickadees and juncos, Faith wondered wistfully where the wild turkeys were now…. 

Coming back indoors Faith was drawn back to the wreath. This time she removed the candle, peering into a dark hole that appeared in the balsam’s center. 

Almost like a well she thought. Lily b confirmed with a coo. 

 Not a well, but something with a wooden bottom. A piece of Earthen ground? A second confirming coo. Her grandmother’s round table supported the wreath. One circle supported by another.

Faith felt a faint whoosh; air moved out of the empty center. Strange. She placed her favorite pearl -like spiral shell in front of the wreath and climbed upstairs to bring down three Zuni stone bears. Faith wasn’t even aware that she had begun to play.

Faith’s mother had explained that it was just before this festival that Black bears gave birth in snug dens dug underground between the roots of trees. Faith loved wild bears and still missed seeing them every spring. She chose a Zuni mother to lead, her favorite baby bear Blue was followed by a large, bowed father bear who took up the rear as protector, inside and out. Not quite satisfied she added a fourth bear to the circle. Now there was a bear for each of the four directions. Just right.

Maybe she could find freshly fallen lichen to add to the old Faith wondered as she dressed to go outdoors in the snow. Under Mother Pine she discovered two pieces of her favorite wrinkled lettuce lying on the ground. Once indoors, she added these crinkly lichen beings to the wreath. Both old and new…  the wreath was gaining power.

 A sudden memory of the antelope sent her upstairs again where she rummaged for and found the beaded Huichol figure that always peered behind him… She had begged her mother to buy this astonishing wooden creature that was covered with rainbow beads for this ceremony one year because she sensed the animal embodied a power that was attached to reversals. That year antelope helped her mother deal with depression. Now Faith needed antelope’s power of reversal to help her wake up… 

The spiral shell glowed in front of the wreath, so she placed the antelope behind it. The bears went round and round…Faith remembered a story about a bear woman who climbed and crossed mountains of fire. She imagined the black bear was this mysterious bear woman. Faith trusted unseen powers… the wreath was spinning a  story.

That night Faith had a dream about an ebony/brown nautilus shell. When she picked it up the spiral was still wet from the sea. In the dream she wanted to keep the shell that her mother once told her held an octopus like a creature that lived in the ocean 500 million years ago about the same time as lichens were creeping up on dry land. But this nautilus was not just an empty shell it was home to an animal who was alive. 

Oh, she wanted that shell and awakened feeling so guilty that she did. Should she keep the shell or was she supposed to return it to the sea? She asked her mother, but neither had an answer to this troubling question. As the day passed Faith gradually sensed that she had to let the nautilus go…

The next morning both groups of turkeys arrived, and after scratching and swallowing all the seed, two and then three flew into a crabapple tree, giant wings spread, tipping and toppling over the skinny branches as they tried to reach the berries. Faith loved these antics. She was thrilled by turkeys believing their presence was always beneficent. Faith’s mother filmed the hilarious story as it unfolded. Wildly wobbling turkeys snapped up frozen berries as other wrinkled fruits fell to the ground to be eaten by other turkeys waiting below. 

 After the show Faith added one of her precious turkey feathers to the wreath hoping for another community visit.

 She returned to the wreath a few more times that day feeling that it was probably finished.

The circle had been cast.

Now Faith hoped that soon she might unravel its story….