Long  long ago, before the women lost the powers of the medicines,  in a small village deep in the mountain forest near the banks of the great river known as Orinoco, there lived a young girl known as I-Ya-Pari. She was the granddaughter of Sa-Isii-Ma the great O-Piai (Medicine Woman & Holder of Wisdom) of the village. I-Ya-Pari got great pleasure in visiting her Grandmother, for Sa Isii-Ma’s stories defined the way I-Ya-Pari was in the world around her, and that world was full of wonder and awe.

On this day I-Ya-Pari sets off on the trail in the dense forest to her grandmother’s ajoupa (house), carrying with her in her terite reed woven basket some manioc bread, a ball of freshly made cacao, some vanilla pods and some hot peppers as gifts for her Atabey (Grandmother). As she walks along the foot path, she is fascinated by the beams of light that pierce through the thick rainforest canopy, they stand like translucent pillars within the backdrop of broad leaf vines cling to and hanging from the enormously large ancient trees. On the trunks of the trees she can see the ants carrying cut leaves on their backs as they follow their trails to and from their anthills, the cicadas are singing, the spiders are spinning their webs, everything is as it should be. The earth is warm, humid and soft under her bare feet, and here and there along the path, riding upon the moisture filled air, there are sweet scents, spicy scents, musky scents, as the forest flowers acknowledge her passage. I-Ya-Pari is happy, it is the first time that she is going alone along this path to visit Atabey Sa-Isii-Ma, she is now seven years old and her mother had set her off on the trail knowing that she would be well and that it was time for her to spend some special time with her Atabey.

Along the path I-Ya-Pari crosses a small shallow stream that flows from one of many springs higher up in the mountains. Here she takes a sip of the cool, clear, pure mountain water and looks for one of her friends, the little green frog, who loves to sit under one of the tall lily leaves waiting for his meal to come flying by. He is there, singing away to his friends who are all along the stream, and they are all singing with him. In I-Ya-Pari’s eyes the stream is alive, as it comes gently flowing down its narrow passage through the thick moss covered rocks, it bubbles, sings and swooshes along its way. Delicate lace like ferns and white flowered lilies adorn its banks, and it swirls gently around the rocks laid in a path through the stream that she must take in order to continue along her way.

Up in the canopy the birds are singing, building and repairing nests, the bees and the butterflies are visiting the orchid flowers, the forest is teaming and humming with life and activity. As she gets closer on the path to her Atabey Sa-Isii-Ma’s ajoupa (house) she can hear a familiar humming, as her grandmother is working around her medicines, holding sacred space and keeping an eye out for her arrival. As she approaches, her grandmother calls out to her:

‘There you are I-Ya-Pari! What a beautiful path you have walked today, you are now old enough to hear one of my most wonderful stories. Come! Let us drink some cacao, I have prepared a special place where we can begin our conversation with  Kuma (Mother Nature).’

I-Ya-Pari gives her grandmother the terite basket, they enter the house and refresh themselves with vanilla spiced cacao, and then go off into the woods, to where Atabey Sa-Isii-Ma has prepared a spot for them by placing a beautifully woven blanket under the largest tree in the forest. She places a water bowl in the center of the blanket and lights some copal in a specially prepared incense burner. They both sit on the blanket and the magic begins.

Atabey Sa-Isii-Ma begins to hum, she is humming to contact the spirit of Mother Nature, Kuma. As she hums she sways back and forth and the air becomes electric, with the presence of spirit, the sounds of the forest disappear into silence. Kuma is here and begins to speak to I-Ya-Pari through her grandmother.

‘‘Welcome child of the forest and clouds, we are happy that you have joined us for the telling of the tale of To-Be-Come-In. In the beginning of time when the dawn of life was conceived, the Heart of Sky, named Hunrakan with the two thunders, Newborn Thunderbolt and Sudden Thunderbolt came together to think and to speak together with the Fire Serpent of Vision named Kauil. And then, the earth arose because of them, it was simply their word that brought it forth. For the forming of the earth they said ‘Earth’. It arose suddenly, just like a cloud, like a mist, now forming, unfolding. Then the mountains were separated from the water, all at once the great mountains came forth. By their genius alone they carried the conception of the mountain-plain, whose face grew instant groves of trees.

And the Fire Serpent of Vision, Kauil, was pleased with this:

‘It is good that you came, Heart of Sky – Hunrakan, Newborn Thunderbolt and Sudden Thunderbolt, our work, our design will turn out well.’

And the earth was formed first, the mountain-plain. The waters were separated when the great mountains appeared; their branches wound their ways among the mountains. The sky was set apart, and the earth was set apart in the midst of the waters. In the center of the Earth, the Sacred Garden known as Tamoanchan came into being, by their genius it came forth. And the Fire Serpent of Vision, Kauil, was pleased with this, then they came together again Heart of Sky – Hunrakan, Newborn Thunderbolt and Sudden Thunderbolt, they thought and they spoke again.

And through their words, in the center of Tamoanchan came forth the Great Tree, whose roots go down deep into the nine lower worlds of the waters below and whose branches rise up into the thirteen upper worlds of the waters above. And the Fire Serpent of Vision, Kauil was pleased with this, and then they came together again, Heart of Sky – Hunrakan, Newborn Thunderbolt and Sudden Thunderbolt, and they they thought and they spoke.

They spoke the words, and everyone of these world were created differently, and everyone of them has its own sound, and just as a tree is connected through all of its parts, all of these worlds are connected to each other as one. And the Fire Serpent of Vision was pleased with this, and said to Heart of Sky – Hunrakan, and to Newborn Thunderbolt and to Sudden Thunderbolt, ‘Our work, our design, will turn out well.’

I-Ya-Pari, know that each part of the tree is important as each part helps and supports the life of the other part. And, just as you saw as you came along the forest path to your Atabey Sah-Isii-Ma’s house, there are different activities and different animals and plants amongst the roots, on the trunk and amongst the branches of the trees in the forest, and so it is with this Great Tree in the center of Tamoanchan.

We are now sitting here at the center point, the portal into the realm of the spirit world, a doorway between the above worlds and the below worlds. This Great Tree in the center of Tamoanchan is very special, it is not like any tree you have ever seen, as it is the portal To-Be-Come-In. It is the portal into time. This Sacred Garden, Tamoanchan and the Central Great Tree portal, is guarded by the Lord of the Tree, whose name is Yahaute. It is Yahaute who allowed you to come down to us, to your mother and father, to your Atabey, to this human world. You came to us through this portal To-Be-Come-In.

Remember now child of the forest and of the clouds! Within the Great Tree is a living road of light and fire who is the Sovereign of Lineage, Kauil, the Fire Serpent of Vision, the mother-father of life, of humankind, giver of breath, giver of heart, bearer, upbringer in the light that lasts of those born in the light, begotten in the light. Kauil is knower of everything, and who is within you and within all of creation.

When you shall blow the sacred conch, when you shall light the sacred fire and when you shall dance around the sacred tree you shall be Bringing Down the Sun beyond the sun, you shall be bringing down the Fire Serpent of Vision. When you need to travel through the worlds of spirit for the vision work that you will be doing as part of your lineage, it is through the Great Tree Portal that you will travel, and you will do so with the help of the Fire Serpent of Vision, Kauil. Know that those who work with the Fire Serpent of Vision can never be deceived, and know also that a time will come in the future when these teachings will be corrupted so that humankind will fear the Fire Serpent of Vision; your descendants will forget my name, our teachings and our ways; they will fall into forgetfulness and into the darkness of ignorance.

Guard these words of the teachings within your heart, guard them within the power of light and love for your descendants. There will be those who will find their way and come looking for these words of the teachings, and through the power that is within your heart, they will find them once again, they will find their way to the Sacred Garden Tamoanchan, back to me and to the Fire Serpent of Vision, Kauil.’’

With these words, Kuma blessed I-Ya-Pari with O-Piai, and left her with a gift, a mark of ‘sovreignty’ within her soul, to assist her descendants to reconnect with the flowers of life upon the Central Tree and be awakened by the divine perfume of awareness.


Written by - Harira Oraro

The Wood Fairy – La Fée des Bois has permission by the author to publish this story.

Mantra for the week:

'I have lived from one extreme to the other,
Total freedom to completely smothered,
I see true love as transforming myself,
To be born anew, by listening to you.'
.

Thousands of years ago, deep down in hell, the Devil made a mirror. The Devil gave this beautiful mirror to the four seasons, so that they could admire their work. And when the Spring stood in front of the mirror, it reflected the essence of her season and the promise of life.

And so it was for Summer and Autumn. And when the Winter stood in front of the mirror, the world was reflected cold and covered in snow. And that was as it should be, for each season has its power and its time and there was harmony.

But the Devil had made the mirror twisted. So that as Winter gazed at her own face, she longed to be Queen of the Seasons. And one day she stole the mirror and took it to the arctic wastes for herself. Now she was the Snow Queen, and the world became a colder place, but not cold enough for her, because Autumn and Spring and Summer still existed however diminished.

So, she took the mirror and flew with it up into the sky to demand of heaven itself that Winter should rule the earth unchallenged. But, as she approached heaven, the mirror shook and shook, as if good and evil were wrestling for control. It shook so much that it slipped from her grasp and fell back to earth where it shattered into billions of pieces — some no larger than a grain of sand. These splinters were blown around and around until they flew into people's hearts and eyes. Their hearts became frozen like blocks of ice and when they looked at the world they saw it as cold and ugly, and could only see the bad and ugly in people and things.

And, each winter the Snow Queen began to roam the earth, looking for all the missing pieces, dreaming that one day she will be able to put the mirror back together, and again become all powerful.

- The Wood Fairy - La Fée des Bois

An ordinary person using bread in a meal today is usually ignorant of the esoteric significance of Bread.
Bread has a special place in many cultures of life sustenance. Bread contains great wisdom of the past, present and future.
And one of the challenges of mankind in the present is to understand the whole essence of what our ancestors wanted to pass to their descendants through this valuable food product.

Defining the role of Bread in ritual cultures of people all around the world we realize that Bread is not only a food product but also a magic tool, as well as a medical means and communication system to connect different social groups. Bread reveals the connection between man and nature, life, the world beyond, and earth and space.

There are lots of mysteries in what is served as bread. First this product is made of unique plants - Cereals. To understand the culture of cereal cultivation from soil preparation to harvesting, milling, making flower, the presence of the water element, the preparation of fire, we have to go back to the past, to our great-grand fathers, to myths, legends, fairy tails and songs.

In myths and fairy tails of many peoples around the world, the cereals are “servants” of speech between the Sun and the Earth. The cereals are introduced as gifts from the Heavenly Father and the Earth Mother.

Sowing was arranged as a religious act, harvest as a ceremony. Melodies of ploughmen’s songs raised their souls up to celestial heights, inspiring and encouraging them as celestial blessings, while their bodies were busy with heavy physical work, watering the soil with their sweat. Cereals represent a bunch of rays, a concentrated light ray pollinated by air - the astral strengths carrier.

Cereals are the only plant family that has over 4000 varieties and none of them are poisonous.
Wheat, although it originated in the East, is spread throughout the world, on every continent, as blessing of the Sun. Wheat seeds symbolizes the source of fertility. Cooked wheat seeds symbolize unity. Many peoples have a tradition of scattering wheat seeds beside a newborn child. That will keep the child safe from attracting evils. Ears of rye were hanged on the walls of a nursery or burned in fire to protect a child from fears. And, of course, the same wheat, milled, mixed with water and cooked on fire, was called bread.

With the help of the bread baking process cereals penetrate into human nature.

In bread, in the way of its preparation lies in the phytogenous form, the mystery of human creation. The ancient teachings of Bread being a symbol of life and spiritual food is understood when we see and feel that in bread are heavenly forces, the divine power carried from the solar heavenly distances and descending to the sacred earth.
The Christ had carried a message for all peoples on the Earth, through his ancient teachings of the earthy bread: “It is a body of mine, which for you is transferred, so create it in commemoration of me”. - (Armenian translation)

That means that bread already symbolizes a spiritual person, i.e. the changed physical body which is transferred to all. Hence this ancient teaching rich in symbolism honours the working man - the farmer, cultivating the soil, working on the body of the Earth, to honour the life supporting spirit within - the Spiritual Person within the physical person.

When a man eats bread, he eats the body of the Earth, the body of the Earth Spirit. While eating bread - a person receives communion with the Divine, in the direct meaning of the word. It is necessary to comprehend that and to treat with deep respect and awe the wisdom and meaning of the term - "we eat ". To understand the essence of a meal, this divine force, this universal ceremony.

Bread is also a symbol of individuality, as follows from the parable of receiving communion. And we know that the more individual a person is, the better the carrier of Love s/ he is. And there, where there is peace, people love because they are brought to something they should love. If a person is granted with the gift of individuality, and s/he cares for and cultivates divine force within him/herself, then the impulses of love will go from his/her heart to the heart of another person.

Magic and love legends, various faiths and popular beliefs, as well as ceremonies and rituals are connected with bread. For instance, in Bulgaria (Klisur) they would bake a small round loaf of bread, put it down into water, then take it out and give to a sick person as a means against fear. Or there is another popular belief that bread has a soul and it should not be cut with a knife, otherwise the soul will be taken from bread. Or one more, when bread was associated with separation of soul from the body: - keeping a piece of bread over a dead person symbolizes transfer of the human soul into bread.

We should also mention an old traditional ceremony to put bread on the belly of a pregnant woman, as something holy and “life-enhancing” thus proving both the right of a baby for bread and the right for material realization of his soul.
Bread as a ceremonial tool had the function of a tool of communication, as it served as a signal, realizing a contact between a person and the society, a person and the family, an individual and his friends, social groups, humans and nature. Namely the communicativeness of bread, its property to connect two systems, defined the place of bread in ceremonial culture of nations. Bread makes people acquainted, strengthens relationship (the Armenian sayings “Agh u hatsov dimaworel” (To meet with bread and salt) or “Mi ktor agh u hats utel’ (To eat a piece of bread and salt)) both in personal contacts during holidays or ceremonies and in sacrificial ceremonies to get closer to the spiritual world.

In older times the bakers profession was very special. And not only because of his/her professional skills in bread preparation and baking, but also for his/her pure individual human features. Generally only experienced women with professional skills were involved in dough preparation.

Ceremonial breads, being a part of the historical-ethnic development of bread culture and meals in general, are of special interest among ritual breads of many peoples. This interest was shown long before our era by Greek, Roman and Assyrian historians (Xenophont, Aristotel, Alexander, and etc.). And it was directed not only to the process of preparation, which takes into account an annual cycle and day arrangements of stars; baking technologies, magic spells, but also included different kinds and shapes of bread in connection with their dedication in honor of holidays, ceremonies, and the symbology of their uses.

Moreover, for different kinds of bread different baking forms and methods were used, even different kinds of wood for the oven fire were necessary.

And at last, dear friends, THINK: before stretching a hand to break off a piece of bread: "so many lives are there far(in the past) and so many lives will there be (in the future)!” REMEMBER... BREAD – is a solemn performance, BREAD is a symbol of life.

Inspired by an article written by - A. Mehrabyan

Betushka was a little girl. Her mother was a poor widow with nothing but a tumble-down cottage and two little nanny-goats. But poor as they were Betushka was always cheerful. From spring till autumn she pastured the goats in the birch wood. Every morning when she left home her mother gave her a little basket with a slice of bread and a spindle.

“See that you bring home a full spindle,” her mother always said.

Betushka had no distaff, so she wound the flax around her head. Then she took the little basket and went romping and singing behind the goats to the birch wood. When they got there she sat down under a tree and pulled the fibers of the flax from her head with her left hand, and with her right hand let down the spindle so that it went humming along the ground. All the while she sang until the woods echoed and the little goats nibbled away at the leaves and grass.

When the sun showed midday, she put the spindle aside, called the goats and gave them a mouthful of bread so that they wouldn’t stray, and ran off into the woods to hunt berries or any other wild fruit that was in season. Then when she had finished her bread and fruit, she jumped up, folded her arms, and danced and sang.

The sun smiled at her through the green of the trees and the little goats, resting on the grass, thought: “What a merry little shepherdess we have!”

After her dance she went back to her spinning and worked industriously. In the evening when she got home her mother never had to scold her because the spindle was empty.

One day at noon just after she had eaten and, as usual, was going to dance, there suddenly stood before her a most beautiful maiden. She was dressed in white gauze that was fine as a spider’s web. Long golden hair fell down to her waist and on her head she wore a wreath of woodland flowers.

Betushka was speechless with surprise and alarm.

The maiden smiled at her and said in a sweet voice:

“Betushka, do you like to dance?”

Her manner was so gracious that Betushka no longer felt afraid, and answered:

“Oh, I could dance all day long!”

“Come, then, let us dance together,” said the maiden. “I’ll teach you.”

With that she tucked up her skirt, put her arm about Betushka’s waist, and they began to dance. At once such enchanting music sounded over their heads that Betushka’s heart went one-two with the dancing. The musicians sat on the branches of the birch trees. They were clad in little frock coats, black and gray and many-colored. It was a carefully chosen orchestra that had gathered at the bidding of the beautiful maiden: larks, nightingales, finches, linnets, thrushes, blackbirds, and showy mocking-birds.

Betushka’s cheeks burned, her eyes shone. She forgot her spinning, she forgot her goats. All she could do was gaze at her partner who was moving with such grace and lightness that the grass didn’t seem to bend under her slender feet.

They danced from noon till sundown and yet Betushka wasn’t the least bit tired. Then they stopped dancing, the music ceased, and the maiden disappeared as suddenly as she had come.

Betushka looked around. The sun was sinking behind the wood. She put her hands to the unspun flax on her head and remembered the spindle that was lying unfilled on the grass. She took down the flax and laid it with the spindle in the little basket. Then she called the goats and started home.

She reproached herself bitterly that she had allowed the beautiful maiden to beguile her and she told herself that another time she would not listen to her. She was so quiet that the little goats, missing her merry song, looked around to see whether it was really their own little shepherdess who was following them. Her mother, too, wondered why she didn’t sing and questioned her.

“Are you sick, Betushka?”

“No, dear mother, I’m not sick, but I’ve been singing too much and my throat is dry.”

She knew that her mother did not reel the yarn at once, so she hid the spindle and the unspun flax, hoping to make up tomorrow what she had not done today. She did not tell her mother one word about the beautiful maiden.

The next day she felt cheerful again and as she drove the goats to pasture she sang merrily. At the birch wood she sat down to her spinning, singing all the while, for with a song on the lips work falls from the hands more easily.

Noonday came. Betushka gave a bit of bread to each of the goats and ran off to the woods for her berries. Then she ate her luncheon.

“Ah, my little goats,” she sighed, as she brushed up the crumbs for the birds, “I mustn’t dance today.”

“Why mustn’t you dance today?” a sweet voice asked, and there stood the beautiful maiden as though she had fallen from the clouds.

Betushka was worse frightened than before and she closed her eyes tight. When the maiden repeated her question, Betushka answered timidly:

“Forgive me, beautiful lady, for not dancing with you. If I dance with you I cannot spin my stint and then my mother will scold me. Today before the sun sets I must make up for what I lost yesterday.”

“Come, child, and dance,” the maiden said. “Before the sun sets we’ll find some way of getting that spinning done!”

She tucked up her skirt, put her arm about Betushka, the musicians in the treetops struck up, and off they whirled. The maiden danced more beautifully than ever. Betushka couldn’t take her eyes from her. She forgot her goats, she forgot her spinning. All she wanted to do was to dance on forever.

At sundown the maiden paused and the music stopped. Then Betushka, clasping her hands to her head, where the unspun flax was twined, burst into tears. The beautiful maiden took the flax from her head, wound it round the stem of a slender birch, grasped the spindle, and began to spin. The spindle hummed along the ground and filled in no time. Before the sun sank behind the woods all the flax was spun, even that which was left over from the day before. The maiden handed Betushka the full spindle and said:

“Remember my words: Reel and grumble not! Reel and grumble not!”
When she said this, she vanished as if the earth had swallowed her.

Betushka was very happy now and she thought to herself on her way home: “Since she is so good and kind, I’ll dance with her again if she asks me. Oh, how I hope she does!”

She sang her merry little song as usual and the goats trotted cheerfully along.
She found her mother vexed with her, for she had wanted to reel yesterday’s yarn and had discovered that the spindle was not full.

“What were you doing yesterday,” she scolded, “that you didn’t spin your stint?”

Betushka hung her head. “Forgive me, mother. I danced too long.” Then she showed her mother today’s spindle and said: “See, today I more than made up for yesterday.”

Her mother said no more but went to milk the goats and Betushka put away the spindle. She wanted to tell her mother her adventure, but she thought to herself: “No, I’ll wait. If the beautiful lady comes again, I’ll ask her who she is and then I’ll tell mother.” So she said nothing.

On the third morning she drove the goats as usual to the birch wood. The goats went to pasture and Betushka, sitting down under a tree, began to spin and sing. When the sun pointed to noon, she laid her spindle on the grass, gave the goats a mouthful of bread, gathered some strawberries, ate her luncheon, and then, giving the crumbs to the birds, she said cheerily:

“Today, my little goats, I will dance for you!”

She jumped up, folded her arms, and was about to see whether she could move as gracefully as the beautiful maiden, when the maiden herself stood before her.

“Let us dance together,” she said. She smiled at Betushka, put her arm about her, and as the music above their heads began to play, they whirled round and round with flying feet. Again Betushka forgot the spindle and the goats. Again she saw nothing but the beautiful maiden whose body was lithe as a willow shoot. Again she heard nothing but the enchanting music to which her feet danced of themselves.

They danced from noon till sundown. Then the maiden paused and the music ceased. Betushka looked around. The sun was already set behind the woods. She clasped her hands to her head and looking down at the unfilled spindle she burst into tears.

“Oh, what will my mother say?” she cried.

“Give me your little basket,” the maiden said, “and I will put something in it that will more than make up for today’s stint.”

Betushka handed her the basket and the maiden took it and vanished. In a moment she was back. She returned the basket and said:

“Look not inside until you’re home! Look not inside until you’re home!”
As she said these words she was gone as if a wind had blown her away.

Betushka wanted awfully to peep inside but she was afraid to. The basket was so light that she wondered whether there was anything at all in it. Was the lovely lady only fooling her? Halfway home she peeped in to see.

Imagine her feelings when she found the basket was full of birch leaves! Then indeed did Betushka burst into tears and reproach herself for being so simple. In her vexation she threw out a handful of leaves and was going to empty the basket when she thought to herself:

“No, I’ll keep what’s left as litter for the goats.”

She was almost afraid to go home. She was so quiet that again the little goats wondered what ailed their shepherdess.

Her mother was waiting for her in great excitement.

“For heaven’s sake, Betushka, what kind of a spool did you bring home yesterday?”

“Why?” Betushka faltered.

“When you went away this morning I started to reel that yarn. I reeled and reeled and the spool remained full. One skein, two skeins, three skeins, and still the spool was full. ‘What evil spirit has spun that?’ I cried out impatiently, and instantly the yarn disappeared from the spindle as if blown away. Tell me, what does it mean?”

So Betushka confessed and told her mother all she knew about the beautiful maiden.

“Oh,” cried her mother in amazement, “that was a wood maiden! At noon and midnight the wood maidens dance. It is well you are not a little boy or she might have danced you to death! But they are often kind to little girls and sometimes make them rich presents. Why didn’t you tell me? If I hadn’t grumbled, I could have had yarn enough to fill the house!”

Betushka thought of the little basket and wondered if there might be something under the leaves. She took out the spindle and unspun flax and looked in once more.

“Mother!” she cried. “Come here and see!”

Her mother looked and clapped her hands. The birch leaves were all turned to gold!

Betushka reproached herself bitterly: “She told me not to look inside until I got home, but I didn’t obey.”

“It’s lucky you didn’t empty the whole basket,” her mother said.

The next morning she herself went to look for the handful of leaves that Betushka had thrown away. She found them still lying in the road but they were only birch leaves.

But the riches which Betushka brought home were enough. Her mother bought a farm with fields and cattle. Betushka had pretty clothes and no longer had to pasture goats.

But no matter what she did, no matter how cheerful and happy she was, still nothing ever again gave her quite so much pleasure as the dance with the wood maiden. She often went to the birch wood in the hope of seeing the maiden again. But she never did.

- Blessed Be
The Wood Fairy - La Fée des Bois