Previously published in The Essential Herbal
How Women Came to Have Knowledge of Plants
From This Side of the Ocean
Jackie Johnson N.D.
This story was told to me by
an elder-mentor many years ago in upstate New York.
Long ago there was an old
woman who lived alone on the edge of village close to the forest. Her husband had walked on many years before,
and her children were all married with families of their own. She rarely saw them. Although they left food for her, she was
beginning to feel useless, cooking only for herself, keeping the lodge for only
one. Her thoughts were turning to the land
of the setting sun.
One spring day, as she sat
alone looking into the deep pine forest, a young man limped out of the darkness
and came toward her. He was so thin and
badly injured with broken bones, deep cuts, and scratches all over his
body. She helped him into her lodge and
onto a spare bedroll she still kept. She
covered him and as she gave him a drink of water, she fretted. She told him she would run for the village
healer and bring him back.
The young man stopped her
saying “I know what needs to be done, but I am unable to gather what I need or
to prepare the treatments. Can you do
this for me if I tell you how?”
Feeling very incapable and
inexperienced to deal with wounds of this magnitude, the woman reluctantly
agreed to do as he asked.
She went to the meadow to
gather the plants he requested…and they were just where he said they would be
growing. Quickly she took only what she
needed while thanking them for being there for her, and returned to the lodge. The young man was there and still alive. In great pain, he explained to her how to
make the plants into medicine and how to apply them. He told her what to put in the water she kept
in a pot on the fire and he drank what she offered him. He showed her how to make rawhide casts and
how to use them.
The woman was grateful she
could help the young man, and he grew stronger each day and his health soon
returned to him. She was so happy to
feel useful again.
One morning she awoke and
found him very sick. Again, he told her
to go to the edge of the forest and get what was needed. The plants were right there and she thanked
them, gathered some, dug others, and returned with her basket full. The young man told her to prepare these,
differently from the first ones, but she learned and he recovered from this
illness.
This went on throughout the
summer and early fall – an endless cycle.
The young man would recover only to fall sick again from a different
ailment or injury. He would patiently explain
to her the plants that were needed, where they should live, how to prepare
them, and how to administer them.
The time passed too
quickly. The old woman found herself
fulfilled as she cared for the young man; healing him, feeding him, and watching
him get stronger and putting meat on his bones.
She found herself laughing
at the stories he told of his people (that she thought were a very strange
bunch), and she shared stories of her family and of her loneliness.
By fall harvest time, the
old woman’s lodge had been transformed.
Vines, leaves and berries were hung everywhere drying. Pouches of plant medicines filled her
baskets. People of the village were
visiting to ask her advice on this or
that. She was no longer lonely.
Too soon the trees were
bare, their leaves fallen to the ground.
The nights were cold. The young
man had healed and stayed healed and she was pleased to see the amount of
weight he had gained. Her heart knew he
would be returning to his own people.
Soon the winds changed. They came from the north and brought snow
with them. It was on such a morning the
old woman was awakened by a cold blast of north wind and snow by the closing of
her lodge door.
Quickly she arose and threw
on her warmest robe. She knew the young
man had chosen to leave and she wanted to say goodbye. She walked out of the lodge and saw his fresh
footprints in the snow. She began to
follow them.
Half way to the forest she
stopped and tears formed in her eyes and a knowing came into her heart. The human footprints had suddenly ended. One step ahead and disappearing into the dark
woods were the tracks of the bear.
And so, it was in this way
that the Medicine Bear brought the healing ways of plants to woman.
