William Krueger - Northwest Angle

It was just as Amos Powassin had said: Kitchimanidoo, the Great Creator, God—they were all different names for the same thing, which was creation in all its aspects and all its possibility.

The smoke from Meloux’s fire smelled of sage and cedar. A hush fell over those gathered on Crow Point, and the old Mide began the ceremony, offering tobacco to the four corners of the sky, speaking in each direction the Ojibwe name of Jenny’s boy: Waaboozoons.

In a whisper, Rainy explained to Rose and Mal and Tom Kretsch that the Naming Ceremony honored First Man, who’d named everything in this world. Speaking the child’s name in the four directions allowed the spirit world to recognize this new person and accept him.

When that was done, Meloux addressed the gathering. His words were Ojibwe, and Rainy gave her companions a rough translation of what he said:

“I am an old man. In my life, I have been asked to name many children. The names have always come to me after fasting and dreaming, which is the old way. This child’s name came in another way. A strange way. Maybe it is the new way. It was delivered to Silver Fox, Stephen O’Connor, in a diner in Koochiching”—which Rainy explained was the Ojibwe name for International Falls—”and he has told me that there was, most definitely, no fasting involved.” Meloux grinned at Stephen, and those gathered around the fire laughed.

Meloux grew solemn again. “In the beginning of the journey of this child, or any child, is the understanding that each foot will fall into a different track. Happiness on one side, sadness on the other. Pleasure and pain. Wisdom and folly. With each step, this child will learn that there is in him the possibility of great good and also great evil. It is a serious matter, guiding this child along the path of right living.

“Jennifer O’Connor.” Meloux now spoke in English. “Will you instruct Waaboozoons in ninoododadiwin, which is the way of harmony, the path between the two worlds of possibility—good and evil—created by the Great Mystery?”

“I will do my best,” Jenny promised.

“Have you chosen we-ehs for Waaboozoons?”

We-ehs, Rainy explained, were like godparents, responsible for the child’s upbringing in many ways.

“I have,” Jenny said. “Anne O’Connor and Stephen O’Connor.”

Meloux nodded, as if satisfied.

Jenny handed her baby to Anne, who kissed the child and said, “Waaboozoons.” She handed the baby to Stephen, who did the same and then returned Waaboo to his mother.

“This child,” Meloux said to the whole gathering, “this little rabbit, came into the world and survives because of the great sacrifice of others. But he owes them no debt. In his time, in his turn, he, too, will be asked to sacrifice. We live by the grace of Kitchimanidoo and the goodness of one human being toward another. That is all I have to say.”

Under the old-nickel sky, they filed through the rocks and returned to the meadow, and the feasting began.

Rose lingered near Meloux’s cabin, watching her family and the guests celebrate. Jenny stood in the meadow holding Waaboo, with Anne and Stephen beside her, all of them beaming. Cork and Rainy Bisonette walked together, involved in a lively conversation, and Cork was smiling, as if the happiest of men. Rose knew Jo would have been fine with all of this. The Great Empty that had come with her sister’s death would never quite be filled, but all around it lay the possibility of peace for those she’d left behind.

Mal came to her with a filled plate in his hand.

“Happy?” he asked.

“Immensely,” she answered.

He scanned the gathering. “You’ve got a great family, Rose, wonderful children.”

“I know.”

He smiled and looked up at the thick clouds and said, as if caught by surprise, “A beautiful day.”

“A beautiful life,” she replied.

And she kissed him, boundless in her appreciation and her love.