“Your photo always hung in his office. You were wearing a college T-shirt in the last one I remember. He always said he had hoped you would end up in veterinary science.”
“I almost did. Then I realized that I preferred observing and learning about animals to cutting them open. So I decided to keep my thread and needlework limited to handcrafts like crochet and knitting.”
“Then you are still carrying on a tradition of your family and honoring your grandmother, as well. Charlie was always proud of you.”
“And he always communicated that to me as I was growing up. A blessing I want to pass on to my own grandchildren. Which is one reason why I’m searching for the origin of the American Indian things I found in Gram and Grandpa’s attic. If there’s a piece of our family’s heritage I’ve missed, I want to fill it in. But I cannot imagine either of my grandparents keeping hidden any part of our heritage.”
“I spent many hours swapping stories with Charlie as we attended mares or cattle in labor. I am sure there is no actual Passamaquoddy blood in your family. But in spirit I will always call Charlie Holden my brother.”
Annie opened her purse, took the packet of photos from a side pocket and handed them to Cecil. “Do you recognize either of these things?”
Shading the photos with one hand, Cecil carefully examined first the photos of the box and then the regalia collar. “I am sorry to say I have not seen these before. It is clear they were both made by masters. The birch-bark box has many characteristics of those created by Tomah Joseph.”
“I saw some of his pieces at the Abbe Museum. I thought I noticed a similarity. But I know so little,” said Annie.
“Tomah was the first to sign and date his pieces, or sometimes he would etch ‘mikwid hamid’ on them.”
“What does that mean?”
“Roughly it translates to ‘remember me.’”
Annie gazed out over the water, wondering how she could possibly communicate her thoughts after all she had learned the day before. She said simply, “Volumes ring from just two words.”
“Yes.” Cecil also paused before continuing, examining the photo of the box again. “It looks as though this box was unsigned. It could still be a work of Tomah’s or possibly the elder who taught him. It is the work of a Passamaquoddy.”
“And the collar?”
“I have not seen this particular combination of colors and pattern. It also looks quite old. Was the fabric used for the base faded?”
“A little, yes.”
“I grew up on the reservation at Pleasant Point. We were not a large tribe by then, and I knew most of the families and the look of their regalia. It was and is an important part of our life. But many people did not stay on the Pleasant Point Reservation, or they lived in Indian Township. The creator may have lived anywhere. How these came to be in your grandparents’ attic … well, Keluwosit himself may need to send us the answer.” Annie knew from her time at the library that Keluwosit was the Great Spirit and Creator of the Passamaquoddy tradition. She smiled and nodded at Cecil’s words.
“Oh.” Annie remembered the poem and gave Cecil the printed copy of it. “I also found part of a poem inside the box. I wrote out another copy because the paper was fragile. Here’s a photo of the script. I couldn’t find any citing of the lines on the Internet or at the library.”
Annie watched the seals as Cecil examined the handwriting and the lines. She had missed the nursery period for new pups by a few weeks, but some seals were still molting and “hauled out” onto beaches and ledges during the process.
Cecil raised his head and handed her the photo. “The handwriting looks like the writer could have been taught at a reservation school. The teachers often went to great lengths to anglicize their students. Developing what they called ‘a fine hand’ was part of that.”
“Do you think it’s a private poem?”
“That would be my guess, yes. The heart of a woman with one foot each in two different worlds formed this poem. It is what I hear.”
Annie nodded again, taking the poem Cecil held out to her and tucking it away in her purse. “It doesn’t sound to me like she was forced out of her first world, but that she chose to leave for love. What more can I do to discover where these things came from?”
“Outside of my family, I know of no other registered Passamaquoddy tribe member in Stony Point. But perhaps you could post a description of the collar and box on a genealogy website. I have known people to find parts of their family they didn’t know they had lost.”
“That’s an excellent idea, Cecil! I’ll do that this week.” From the direction of the Ocean View main building came the clanging of a heavy bell.