Frizzy Lizzys Veterans' Day

Hi dear friends and followers. Today is Saturday which means it is Frizzy Lizzy day. So take five, relax , and enjoy.

"Hello there! Yoo-hoo! I'm in here! Get a coffee and come downstairs while I'm working. What am I doing? It's a lost art called sewing and I'm using it on a Coast Guard uniform for Charley."

"No, he didn't join! And no, he didn't get called back to service because of the mess in Iraq. Or the mess in Afghanistan. No, he didn't volunteer to help with the Ebola virus. He will be in the Veterans' Day ceremonies at the memorial in the park and he needs to be in uniform.

"There are times when I could just kick his butt because he seems like he wants to be a teenager again but this is not one of those times. He doesn't want to play sailor. He wants to honor the women and men who served the nation, whether they are living or not."

"He didn't just get this idea in his head last night. This time he planned it over a few months. What do you mean, 'How can you plan for something like that?' With Charley there's no limit to what that man can concoct. When he puts his mind to something, he can get it done."

"He gets into a lot of stuff but it's not always something worthwhile; like the time he bought that old roll-top desk at the auction. He told me that he was going to strip-off all of the old varnish and refinish it. He got as far as washing it and sanding the flat parts and now it sits in the garage with a tarpaulin over it.

And then there was the time that he bought that 1965 Dodge. I told him to wash it, wax it, and resell it, but no, not Charley. He was so sure that he was going to restore it. I told him that he had enough work keeping his house and his garden tractor in-order but I guess that he had to have a project because he was 'middle-age crazy.' The car got sold for what he paid for it - and that was three years later, and only because he needed the garage space!"

"The next time that he gets middle-age crazy, I hope that he gets into gourmet cooking, or being a pastry chef!"

No, he planned his being in the Veterans' Day program very well. He still had his uniform from when he was a much younger Charley. How old? He was 23 years old when he got out of the Coast Guard, and that was a few thousand beers and burgers ago! He knew that he would never get so much as an arm into the top again, so what did he do?

"He went on the Internet and found a complete used uniform in a size that he thought would fit him. I have to give him credit for that. They were a little bigger than what he needed, but that's no real problem. The uniform's a little baggy and so is he. We finished the fitting and now I'm sewing his stripes and badges from his old uniform onto his new one.

"What did he do in the Coast Guard? He told me that he was a boatswain's mate, a deck sailor petty officer. He was on the crew of a small patrol boat in New Orleans. He chipped paint on a large ship, and he served on a buoy tender in Washington state."

"What do you mean, 'Did he ever get shot at?' Not everyone who serves gets shot at. The guys I met who were in combat don't look down their noses at the guys who were not. Everyone who wore the uniform of the nation served, regardless of where they did their service. There is a respect given to combat veterans but they almost never demand it. They don't make a big show of it.

I'm anxious to see Charley in his uniform. Petty officer Charley, reporting for duty one more time. Both of us are members of the Legion and I'm really happy to help him to do it."

"So on Tuesday, the 11th day of the 11th month, at 11:11 in the morning, stop whatever you're doing for a minute and think about all of the women and men who served the nation in its military branches. Think of the ones who came back and the ones who didn't - and the ones who still serve, and the sacrifices they made and continue to make to keep us safe.

OK, time for a chocolate chip cookie break! Let's head for the kitchen. And I have some great Irish cream to go with the coffee!"

Have a thoughtful Veterans' Day/Remembrance Day!

Composed by Cynthia

Thank you again for dropping by to visit with Frizzy Lizzy I would appreciate knowing what your thoughts are on Frizzy Lizzy.  Thank you and have a wonderful weekend.

✿ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿

The Legend of Virginia Dare

Hi dear friends and followers. Today in this Native American story we visit Croatan people. Hope you enjoy it.

We are now entering the region that is known as the Southeastern United States. The northernmost state in that group is North Carolina, the home of the first English colony in North America. That settlement has come to be known as the Lost Colony of Roanoke.

The Native Peoples of North Carolina include the Croatan, Catawba, Tuscarora, Tutelo, Cherokee, and Creek. We have looked at some of these peoples already and a few others, notably the Cherokee and Creek, will be featured later.

I love the Outer Banks, that is, the extreme east coast of North Carolina, especially Cape Hatteras. It it, to me, the "beach-goer's beach." It is also the home of the Croatan People, so we will look at one of their legends as told in contemporary English.

The Legend of Virginia Dare

On August 27, 1587 Governor John White sailed from Roanoke Island to return to England for supplies. He left behind the first settlement in the new English colony of Virginia, consisting of eighty-nine men, seventeen women, and eleven children.

One of those children was his own granddaughter, the first English child to be born in the New World — Virginia Dare. None of these colonists were ever seen again by English eyes.

White had intended to return to the Roanoke colony the next year, but the threat of Spanish invasion with the great Armada of 1588 and the constantly-shifting politics of the Elizabethan court delayed White's return until 1590. 

When he arrived, he found the colony abandoned, the only clue to the fate of the colonists being the word CROATOAN carved into a tree. This was the name of a nearby island, the home of the English-speaking Croatan Indian Manteo. Manteo and another Croatan, Wanchese, had journeyed to England in 1584, returning with the reconnaissance expedition for the colony. 

White was unable to make a thorough search of the islands, due to the threat of a large storm and the growing impatience of a captain eager to turn south and hunt for Spanish treasure ships. By the time of the next attempt at Colonization in 1608 at Jamestown, the fate of the Lost Colonists had already become the stuff of legend.

One of these legends that has been told time and again on the North Carolina Outer Banks follows the sad, strange fate of that first English child born on New World soil.

According to the legend, Wanchese was fearful of the threat posed by the Englishmen and plotted with a nearby tribe to lead a sneak attack against the colonists. Fleeing for their lives, the colonists were gathered together by Manteo to escape and join his tribe. It was Eleanor Dare, the mother of Virginia, who had the foresight to carve their destination in a tree, with her husband dead of an Indian arrow at her feet and her precious child clutched into her arms.

But a good number of the colonists did escape, and they lived peacefully with the Croatan Indians.

 

Young Virginia Dare grew to be a beautiful maiden, whose natural grace and virtue made her and example to all who knew her, colonists and Indians alike. As she became a young woman, she naturally attracted the attentions of suitors. Among these young men were the noble Okisko, and a jealous sorcerer named Chico.

Chico was the first to offer his hand to the young Virginia Dare, but the maiden refused his advances. Enraged, he used his dark arts to curse the girl, and transformed her body into that of a snow-white doe.

The mysterious white doe was often seen on Roanoke, sadly walking through the now-overgrown and decaying houses built by her people. The story of this beautiful, elusive creature soon spread to all the tribes on the islands.

Now, Okisko, Virginia Dare's other suitor, figured that this white doe had shown up about the same time Virginia Dare had gone missing. Reckoning that his rival in love was a pretty hand at the dark arts, it didn't take him long to figure out that this white doe was his own beloved. Seeking the help of a friendly sorcerer, he learned how to make a magic arrowhead from the mother-of-pearl lining of an oyster shell that would undo the curse.

But Wanchese had also heard of the white doe, and in a bid to prove his worth as a warrior he vowed to kill the rare creature. To this end, he pledged to use a silver arrowhead given to him by Queen Elizabeth when he had been in England.

Okisko and Wanchese, unknown to one another, both tracked the white doe for weeks — one pledged to return her to her true form, the other sworn to bring her death. And as it happened, they came upon the deer at the same hour of the same day, as she was drinking from a still, deep pool in the forest. Okisko saw his beloved, Wanchese saw his prey, and at the same time they both released their arrows. At the same time, both their arrows hit the heart of the white deer, Okisko's undoing the enchantment and Wanchese's bringing death.

Seeing what he had done, Wanchese fled the island in fear, but Okisko sadly carried the body of his beloved to the old fort built by the colonists and buried her at its center.

But soon by that pool where Virginia Dare died, a new vine sprung up, whose grapes were sweeter than any tasted before but whose juice was a red as blood. 

This was the scuppernong, the grape from which the first North Carolina wines were made.

While the exact fate of the Lost Colony is unknown, most historians agree that the chances of Virginia Dare having been transformed into a deer are astonishingly small. But the legend of Virginia Dare does represent a unique combination of a literary tradition that was imported to the New World from England, along with some uniquely American advertising showmanship.

The legend 0f Virginia Dare becoming a deer seems to have been first told in the late 19th Century. The earliest versions of the story, such as the one recorded in an 1880 travel article in the New York Times leave out the grapes and even the Indians entirely. In these versions, Virginia Dare in deer form has a remarkably long lifespan, and is eventually brought down by a silver bullet shot from a Virginia hunter's rifle.

But these first versions of the story are already drawing from an established literary tradition. The White deer is a common motif in English literary legends and is often used as a symbol of Christian virtue. A similar story of a young girl transformed into a white deer can be found in Yorkshire, where it formed the basis for Wordsworth's poem The White Deer of Rylstone.

The most famous version of the Virginia Dare story is certainly aware of this tradition. This is the version of the story whose summary you've just read, and which comes from Sallie Southall Cotten's 1901 book-length poem The White Doe, or the Fate of Virginia Dare.

Sallie Southall Cotten was a remarkable woman, a strong promoter of women's rights and a leader in the women's club movement of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. An organizer of the North Carolina exhibition at the 1893 Chicago World's Fair, it was she who commissioned the beautifully carved Virginia Dare desk that illustrates scenes from the legend and is now on display at the Lost Colony Museum in Roanoke Festival Park.

Ms. Cotten was also an early advocate of North Carolina's wine industry, and the addition of the scuppernong grapes colored by Virginia Dare's blood seems to be her unique contribution to the legend. This addition to the legend may also have something to do with the fact that copies of The White Doe were given away as promotions by Garrett & Company, manufacturers of Virginia Dare wines.

Garret's line of scuppernong wines were among the most popular blends of wine in America in the early part of the 20th Century. Before prohibition, North Carolina was one of the leading states in wine manufacture in the country, an industry that is now only slowly creeping back to being an important one in the state. Distributing Cotten's book was only part of an innovative and aggressive marketing campaign by Garret & Co. Virginia Dare wines were the first wines advertised on radio, with the once-famous tag line "Say it again — Virginia Dare."

Virginia Dare wines were also the first American made wines commercially available at the end of prohibition, but the company never regained its former glory. However, bottles of Virginia Dare wine from the late 1940s are a much sought-after item by collectors, due to unverified rumors that the model posing for the portrait of Virginia Dare on the label was a young Marilyn Monroe.

The literary value of Cotten's poem is not of itself remarkable, but it does hold up well when considered against other book-length poetical advertisements of cheap wine.

Perhaps because her fate is known only to the imagination, Virginia Dare herself is something of a cultural significance. For most of the early years of the republic, the story of the Lost Colony was overshadowed by stories of Plymouth Plantation, but the story of a white child growing up in primordial splendor among friendly Indians seemed to suit the Romantic sensibility of the later 19th century. So the icon of the blonde-haired Virginia Dare and her tragically beautiful death was born.

Thank you again for dropping by to read this native American legend, I hope you have enjoyed the read. I would appreciate some comments on what your thoughts are on this topic. Have a wonderful Friday.

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In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿

Centeva the Wizard Lady Part 2

Hi dear friends and followers. First I apologise for being one day late in presenting to you part 2 of this short story. So here we are on Thursday. Today I would like to present to you part 2 of this wonderful story. So take five, relax , and have a pleasant read. Hope you enjoy it.
Centeva persuaded him to lie in the thick foliage. There she compressed his wounded arm with her two hands. A green glow appeared around her hands and Renalde's wound began to heal.

She scoured the local forest for food and gathered the fruits and nuts that grew locally as Renalde's arm completed it's two-day healing cycle. That was enough time for him to once again wield a sword she thought.

Never before had she seen such plant growth as that place had. Trees and other plants were much taller than she had ever seen anywhere. It felt to her that she had assumed insect size in a world world made for giants. She had half expected to run into one of these beings at any moment.

But none came forth, and for that matter, there were not many animals bigger then an Earth-sized rabbit, if one could call what she had seen, rabbits. they were more like a cross between a kangaroo and. jack rabbit.

They were in a beautiful, green world, with a crystal-clear blue sky in which one could actually observe the stars, even at high noon. There were two suns, one lavender and one yellow, the lavender being much smaller. No moon, but an orbital asteroid belt formed a ring around this world. 

The light reflected from the sunward side of this asteroid belt lit up the skies at night even brighter than a full moon back on earth. It covered the landscape with a multi-hued luminous patchwork, like an artist having a wonderful time with glowing paint.

The sounds at night were new and entirely unlike Earth, but pleasant never the less, possessing their own unique tones and melodies.

Centeva worked diligently to create the spark that started the little fire that glowed near where Renalde lie resting on a thick carpet of grass-like plants. Over the last two days his arm had healed well enough so that all that remained of a deep gash was a pinkish streak of healed scar tissue .

When the next great daylight occurred they were ready to break camp and move on, but to where? Neither had any ideas. A sleight-of-hand magician and a palace guard, alive in the wilds of who-knows-where to do who-knows-what. She did not even know where or what this place was.

She knew that the knowledge was stored somewhere in her subconscious mind, from whence the dream gave her the knowledge to manifest the magic to open the hole in the floor. But would she ever be able to find her way back again? And back there she needed to go to intervene and face the queen again to prevent the tragedy that was about to befall the Odion people.

The next great light came in lavender, the lavender sun being the first to rise over the eastern horizon. After a quick breakfast of what tasted like grapes on this world, Centeva busied herself weaving a bag of grass fibers in which to carry their few belongings while Renalde exercised his injured arm with sword in hand.

His healing was accomplished, though not quite finished as he winced at the pain sent by some sensitive, not quite yet healed, nerve endings. He set the sword point down on the ground, took several deep breaths, and lifted the sword over his head once more. Centeva smiled as she turned to hoist the bag over her shoulder. What she would have given for a good horse at this time.

Renalde sheathed his sword and followed Centeva towards a clearing in the distance. Not far had they gone they encountered more strange beasts about the size of fully grown turkeys.

The clearing opened into a large open field, but it was a field unlike any ever seen by either of them.

What looked like tall grass of many colors appeared to undulate of its own energy, like living tendrils of energetic light. 

At the center of the field was a very large tree, the top of which faded into the misty clouds above. There were stairways carved into the the tree's outer bark, where crowds of tiny people moved up and down the great trunk, like ants.

This was their first meeting with any beings that showed a higher intelligence than the creatures of the wild they had encountered thus far; a much higher intelligence at that.

Renalde stooped to follow the stairs carver into the tree.

He was getting close to ground level when he withdrew suddenly and fell backwards to the ground. "Something in there tried to kill me!" he shouted. "It tried to stab me in the eye!"

Centeva was not surprised by this discovery of the tiny people, for she had a dream of them the night before. She knew that upon waking up she had to come here if she wished to return. "Well, what do you expect, Renalde? After all we are intruding upon them."

The little people had no fear of Renalde or Centeva because they knew that they were strangers in a foreign land and rather much powerless. They read that situation correctly and were bold enough to send an emissary out to tell their visitors just what was their decision.

It is uncanny how beings of like symmetry can establish a path of communications between them. Renalde and Centeva stood stock-still and said nothing, The people's representative did the same, at a distance of about two meters; close enough to feel them but far enough from any hands or weapons.

It felt like an eternity but it was really about two minutes before the emissary's hands began to move in a sort of choreography, a dance, if you will. Sometimes the simplest of expressions can be the most complex-looking of gestures, but it seemed that intelligence was exchanging information.

Both parties to this confab agreed that there were no hostile intentions in any heart, and that one of the parties was just plain lost! The other indicated understanding of the condition, "lost," and motioned "follow me."

They were led around the back side of the tree to a place where the land dropped off, exposing the lower chambers at the base of the tree and chambers of a size more suitable for beings like them. It was obvious that there had been visitors here before of similar body size.

The leader of the people came out to meet them. He (at least it seemed like a "he") was dressed in colorful robes with a long feathered collar. He looked at Centeva and Renalde then took his seat in a heavily-ornamented wooden chair in the center of the room.

Tapping his staff on the floor three times, he silenced the room. In his left hand he held a blue ball of energy, much the same as she had conjured up back at the dungeon. He spoke to her as he motioned with his right-hand for her to approach him: "Be not afraid; approach my lady." When she was very close to him he bade her, "Look into the energy ball," as he held it up for her in his long, slender fingers, for her to look into.

Within the ball she saw herself and Renalde, falling through a hole in the sky and landing where they had been the night they had in this land. That image blurred and was replaced by another, much more disturbing one. The queen and her army marching into the villages of the Odions, pillaging and burning everything in sight.

Centeva stepped back a step, put her right hand over her mouth, then dropped her hand to her side and said, "Dear Honorable Master of Wizards, please tell me how we can keep this from happening."

The wizard made some circular motions with his hands and the blue ball of energy grew until it filled the center of the room. Everywhere one looked within the ball was seen countryside, with its gentle sloping hills and thick forests lining the edges of the Odions' farm land. It was a peaceful scene with smoke curling from the chimneys of the small one-story dwellings that resembled very much the English cottages as she had seen in the many places where she had traveled.

Down every road and trail they came, heavily armed horsemen in armor, with lances held high they came. Down into the valley they swarmed; like a wave of locusts they entered, pillaged, and set fire to the Odions' homes, shops, and barns.

Centeva need to see no more as she turned her head and shed some silent tears. "Look again, my lady, if you wish to learn how to keep this from coming to pass."

A short time later the little people of the tree showed Centeva and Renalde back through the forest to the spot from which they had come. The wizened old wizard came forward, took his wide brimmed hat off and held it over his white beard, and bowed slightly, then said: "I send with you the power and wisdom of my people and lineage, my lady.

Raising both his hands over his head he made another circular motion and a glowing haze formed over him then drifted lazily toward her. She looked down and saw that her entire body glowed a translucent green that soon faded.

The wizard spoke once more and informed her that the power she needed was not gone; that it was only hiding inside and she could call it up at any time that she need it's help. "Remember the ruins, that is where you must lead them. That will be where your power will work the greatest," he reminded her. He bowed down slightly again then replaced his hat on his head and pronounced a blessing over both of them.

Following this benediction he conjured a blue ball of energy, raised it above his head, and threw it hard upon the ground. There appeared a large, glowing blue hole that spiraled downward. At its bottom they could see the inside of the dungeon from whence they had come.

The wizard spoke: "Do not worry about being caught. To them you will be no more than a draft blowing through the cell. Your elemental energy should keep you both invisible until you are well out of view.

Centeva and Renalde held hands at the edge of the blue hole, closed their eyes, and jumped through, landing hard on the stone floor of the cell. They rebounded back up on their feet almost instantaneously, Renalde stood, sword in hand, ready for battle.

Nothing stirred. There was only silence. As they walked lightly through the many corridors and stone stairs leading to above ground, they encountered many guards who just stood transfixed, seeing nothing at all.

Composed by Cynthia©

Thank you again for dropping by to read my short story and hope you have enjoyed the read. I would appreciate knowing what your thoughts are on this topic. Thank you and have a wonderful rest of the weekend.

✿ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿

Shawnee Mythology

Hi dear friends and followers

If you look at a map of the eastern United Stated from 1860 and compare it to one from today you would see one major difference: a new state called West Virginia. This state was created in 1863 when a number of counties in the northwestern area of the Commonwealth of Virginia voted to secede from that state and become an independent state of their own. At first the state was called Kanawha but later came to call itself West Virginia.

The major Native American Peoples in West Virginia were the Tutelo in the east, the Cherokee in the west, and the Shawnee in the central part of the state.

Shawnee Mythology

The Shawnee creation myth is similar to other Algonquin creation myths in maintaining that the people who are now the Shawnees originated from a different world- an island balanced on the back of a giant turtle-and traveled to this one. According to Shawnee myth, when the first people were on the island, they could see nothing but water, which they did not know how to cross. They prayed for aid and were miraculously transported across the water. The Shawnees are the only Algonquin tribe whose creation story includes the passage of their ancestors over the sea, and for many years they held an annual sacrifice in thanks of the safe arrival of their ancestors to this country.

The Shawnees were also unique among the Algonquin peoples in believing their creator was a woman, who they called [Inumsi Ilafewanu] "Kokumthena", which means "Our Grandmother." Kokumthena" is usually depicted as an anthropomorphic female with gray hair whose size ranges from gigantic to very small. According to Shawnee myth, the idea of creation came from the "Supreme Being", who is called "Moneto", but the actual work of creation was performed by Kokumthena the "Great Spirit", and she is the most important figure in Shawnee religion. 

The Supreme Being of all things is Moneto, who rules Yalakuquakumigigi [the universe] and dispenses His blessings and favors to those who earn His good will, just as He brings unspeakable sorrow to those whose conduct merits His displeasure. "Monteo" is not to be mistaken for the "Great Spirit", the ruler of deities, who is subordinate to Him. The "Great Spirit" lives in a home in the sky and, in addition to Shawnee and other Native American languages, she speaks her own non-Shawnee language that can only be understood by children under age four- who forget it as soon as they begin to learn Shawnee.

In addition to creating the world, Kokumthena will end it. Prophets who travel to the after world find her weaving a blanket called a skeemotah, but she has a wolf who unravels what she has done. (I have included this story as told to me by my Grandmother...Woman and the Wolf) Someday, however, she will complete her blanket, scoop up the virtuous to come live with her, and punish and destroy the wicked. 

This belief in a female creator/destroyer probably surfaced in or after 1824, although it may have existed earlier, and there are mixed opinions among historians about the reasons behind the emergence of this belief. Some believe that Kokumthena was inspired by a female deity of the Iroquois named Ataentsic, while another theory holds that the story of the Virgin Mary influenced the Shawnee myth.

In any case, the existing versions of the Kokumthena myth also contain warnings of a great white spirit who will try to change the creator's designs and shorten the years of the Shawnees and warnings of a great serpent who will come from the seas and destroy the Shawnees. According to Shawnee oral tradition, when the Shawnee first saw European ships, they recognized the forked ends of the Europeans' pennants as symbols of the tongue of the serpent.

The Great Horned Serpent, which is always portrayed in cartoon style drawings, is a creature which is shared with other eastern tribes. The serpent lived in a lake. One day he wrapped himself around a large buck deer and took its head which he wore as a mask to fool his prey. This event was witnessed by two ravens.

Another variation of this legend is that the creator was busy at work making the earth when he let a thought about himself escape. In doing this, he gave the serpent an opportunity to harness this power and instill it into himself, making him very powerful.

When the creator realized this had happened he reached out toward the serpent and tried to recover this missing power. In doing so he only managed to capture the head of the serpent and separate it from his body. The headless body managed to slither away and return to the lake.

Once there the serpent took the head of the deer to replace what he had lost. Shawnee elders say the serpent was killed and some of his flesh was carved off and is kept in the bundles of the five divisions. The flesh is still fresh and contains some energy stolen from the creator. Shawnee are warned to stay away from hollow logs and holes in the ground because the spirit of the serpent may lurk there. 

Another creature in Shawnee tradition is the Misignwa. The spirit lives in the forest and protects the animals around it. Some northern tribes claim the spirit is what people call Big Foot. The Misignwa watches all hunters and if they are disrespectful or wasteful he will cause them to have an accident as punishment.

During the Bread Dance the Shawnee have a man who dresses in a suit of bearskin, wearing a wooden mask and carrying a cane and turtle shell rattle to impersonate Misignwa. This impersonator will seek out children who are disruptive and frighten them, hence teaching them a valuable lesson. Misignwa carvings were found on poles in the village plaza's, in council houses and carved into pipes until the 19th century. 

Shawnee tradition has three figures that control weather. Each of these was created by the Grandmother Spirit and was so instructed not to cause harm to the Shawnee. One of these is Cyclone Person, a female face with braids of hair that cause tornadoes. She is given great respect by the Shawnee for not harming them. The Shawnee are not afraid of these storms. The second weather spirit which is actually four separate spirits is called the four winds. The four winds are often called upon to witness prayers, and they have colors associated with them. The winds were told by Grandmother Spirit to respect all women and not to stare at them. Shawnee women will pull their skirts up to their waist to embarrass the winds, thus causing clouds to retreat. The third spirit and most well known are the 

Thunderbirds. The Thunderbirds cause storms when they fight with the Great Horned Serpent and other evil creatures. Lightning is caused by blinking their eyes. The Shawnee believe that the Thunderbirds guard the entrance to heaven and are honored by Kispoko during the war dance as the patrons of war. Tales of the origin of the various divisions also exist. The Piqua, whose name means "a man coming out of the ashes," tell of an ancient fire that after burning out yielded a great puffing and blowing from which a man rose from the ashes. Mequachake signifies the perfect man of the Great Spirit's creation, and this is one reason for believing that the division was responsible for the priesthood.

The most important object in Shawnee religion was the sacred bundle, called 'mishaami.' Each tribe had its own bundle, which was believed to contain the welfare of not only the tribe but the entire universe. People sometimes had their own personal sacred bundles that protected them and enabled them to cast spells. The rituals, contents and history of the mishaami are considered sacred mysteries and are kept in secrecy even to this day.

According to Shawnee legend, all the mishaami were given to the Shawnees by "Kokumthena," who can still control them and will inform a chosen prophet if she desires a change in either the contents of a bundle or a ritual surrounding a bundle.

A custodian - always a man - and one of very high moral character - was assigned to the mishaami by the chief. The mishaami were consulted by the custodian whenever the tribe was considering a major move, and they were opened and their contents moved around before events such as battles in order to protect their outcome.

"The sun is my father; the earth my mother, who nourishes me, and on her bosom I will recline"
Tecumseh, Aug 1810

Thank you again for dropping by to read this native American legend, I hope you have enjoyed the read. I would appreciate some comments on what your thoughts are on this topic. Have a wonderful week.

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ڰۣ

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In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿

The Taos Hum

The Taos Hum

My apologies did not have sufficient time this evening to publish another episode of the Native American legends. I ran into this article I thought you may find interesting . Now this strange sound you are about to hear on these videos is not only restricted to the New Mexico area but has also been recorded around the world. Thank we will resume studying the Native American legends tomorrow

Some residents and visitors in the small city of Taos, New Mexico, have for years been annoyed and puzzled by a mysterious and faint low-frequency hum in the desert air. Oddly, only about 2 percent of Taos residents report hearing the sound. Some believe it is caused by unusual acoustics; others suspect mass hysteria or some secret, sinister purpose. Whether described as a whir, hum, or buzz and whether psychological, natural, or supernatural no one has yet been able to locate the sound's origin.

Short Documentory in search of Taos Hum

Click on link below to view

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SfX5NCwC1WI

Thank you, I hope you have enjoyed this presentation. The Native American legends will resume tomorrow 

✿ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿