Friends' Thanksgiving (post started 17/11/07)

It's been either six or seven years that Friends' Thanksgiving has been going on at 231. It has been, traditionally, a relaxing day spent with people who do not share DNA (before going on to spend time with those who do). This year, the event will be tomorrow and fewer people than normal will be coming. Those who will be coming are some of my favorite people to sit around the table with and I know the meal will be enjoyable and the atmosphere one of friendship, love and warmth, even though we don't all see each other as often as we used to. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday and the meal always has something beyond alimentary aspects - comfort, joy, humor, etc. And I cannot help thinking of literary meals that have had the power to heal a character.



One of the first novels I could read normally after Mom died was The Heart Song of Charging Elk by Jim Welch. The salvific meal from this novel takes place in a Paris jail, where the eponymous protagonist has landed after a series of mishaps that separate him from the Buffalo-Bill Wild West Show he's been touring with. We will see that a meal prepared and served with care and regard for the one who will consume it has incredible healing force.

"For two days, Charging Elk had lain on the sleeping platform and sung his death song. It was a powerful song and it took him away to his own country. He did not feel the cold or see the close stone walls. He did not notice when one of the wasichus brought him soup or emptied his slop bucket...But this day, the third sleep, his song was weak and he was afraid it was losing its power. He no longer felt his nagi lifting inside him, hovering, waiting to be freed for the long journey home.

Then, around midday, something happened that caused him to quit his death song entirely. One of the helpers entered his room, carrying a small platform and a tray. He smiled and talked soothingly, pointing to the window, then to the shaft of light on the opposite wall. He pointed to the tray and rubbed his belly, and Charging Elk followed the man's finger and he saw real food. A cooked bird and several small potatoes, accompanied by a large chunk of bread and a piece of chocolate. He saw the usual mug of pale tea, but he also saw a small bottle of what looked to be mni wakan. It had no paper with the French writing stuck on it, but he could see the dark juice through the deep green of the bottle...The helper noticed that he was looking at the wine. He pointed to the bottle and put his thumb against his lower lip, tilting his head backward. Then he left, laughing.

Charging Elk had not eaten anything solid for several days...he was anxious to be dead and away from this stone room, this foreign land. It had been easy to quit eating the things that floated in the soup and the sour bread, but the sight and smell of real food made him almost grateful that he had not gone away...

Charging Elk looked at the bird for a long time before he found the strength to swing his legs over the edge of the platform and stand up...He stood for a moment, waiting for his sight to come back; then he reached down and touched the bird gingerly, almost a caress. It had been roasted and its smell filled the small room. He pulled a piece of skin from the carcass and tasted it. He thought it might be a wasichu trick, that it might be poisoned or diseased. But the skin tasted good...

After he finished the chicken, he popped the small potatoes, one by one, into his mouth...He chewed the dark bread...

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the blue packet of cigarettes and the matches Yellow Breast had given him. There was one cigarette left...He put it to his lips and struck a match. The thought of making prayers, of performing the yuwipi's ceremony with the tobacco, did not occur to him. And for the first time in several sleeps he felt warm and satisfied with this life and did not wish to end it...

Charging Elk leaned back against the stone wall and watched the smoke curl up into the shaft of light toward the window. He saw Yellow Breast's eyes in the smoke and he saw that the eyes were troubled, almost frightened, with what he saw in Charging Elk's face. He had given Charging Elk this tobacco to make prayers with; and now he had given him a meal of real food and a bottle of mni wakan. Charging Elk would drink it after he finished his smoke because he knew that Wakan Tanka had sent Yellow Breast to help him. Charging Elk smiled...He wanted to live, to continue to breathe the air of this strange country among these strange people. Just a short time ago, this thought would have caused Charging Elk great heartsickness; now he was content to smoke the cigarette and think of his life as here and now - no matter what, he would survive. And when the time came, he would go home to his people. Wakan Tanka would see to that" (104-107).