---

Nadie of the Huron

by Nurin L, ON, Canada, Age 17

December 21, 1635
My name is Nadie of the Huron. Nadie is an Algonquin name meaning wise. I am anything but wise. My mother doesn’t believe me. She always says that though she named me a non- Huron name she still feels that it suits me. I feel not. I am not wise. I am but 15. I am still a child. A lady my mother says. My mother is a beautiful Huron. Long black hair that flies with the wind, perfectly sculpted cheeks make her appear to be non-human. Her kind brown eyes will warm even the most chilled being. Right now she is saying that I should stop trying to practice my French, which is not coming along so well, and help her. I mean look at my writing, so clumsy for a girl of 15. Dena, my close friend, has already mastered the art of writing. Her writing matches the nuns completely, while I am still writing like a young child.

December 25 , 2004
Ahh, today is another blistering cold day. Hoping for my suspicions to be wrong I went outside to check. Immediately my cheeks turned a vivid hue of red. My hands were so stiff you would think that I had been standing outside for days. While I had been freezing outside the blistering winds had sent darts of snow into my eyes, causing tears to leak out. When I got back in, my mother immediately told my family, which is only my sister and mother, about the terrible weather. Usually that wouldn’t have stopped them but it was a day when you just feel like lazing around. Anyway my mother is calling me, aurevoir.

January 3, 1636
Most horrible news: my younger sister Prickrose has contracted the death sentence of a disease of smallpox. My sister- infected with that disease. That is impossible. But already as I write my sister’s fever goes up like an out of control fire. Her head is bathed in sweat even as she shivers. This is a sad day for my family. None of my family has ever been infected since the horrible smallpox epidemic from 1634. Now we fear that not only Prickrose but our whole family might die. I must go bathe Prickrose’s face before she burns up with that fever she has.

January 13, 1636
Prickrose will die. There will be no miracle. My sister is no longer fighting the smallpox. Her body is dotted with pox. She is seeing things. Mumbling incoherent thoughts has proven to my mother that nothing can be done to help Prickrose. Wait she is saying something to me.“ Nadie tell mother that I will be well soon and not to cry. Don’t cry. You will be with me again soon enough. Goodbye! ” That is all my sister said before going back to la la land. Or maybe her spirit is already with the Great Creator and she just came to tell us goodbye? I don’t get it. But how can she die on us like that. I’m older I should be the one to die, not my 7 year old sister.

Later

Prickrose is dead and only to add to my sorrow, Dena has become another victim of the smallpox. I went to visit her and she looks as bad as Prickrose did. She is expected to passaway in a few days. Ohhhhh , how how??? Only a few weeks ago my family and friends were untouched by the smallpox and now my sister is dead and my best friend is also dying. The waves of sleep are near. I hope…

January 15, 1636
Dena is dead dead dead. Mother is in mourning, sobbing every 5 minutes. I cannot cry I am numb as a snowman. I have officially lost it. See. Oh no their mom goes again crying and crying and crying. Actually I really want to cry but I can’t seem to. The house feels so empty. No Prickrose to annoy me. I’d do anything to have her back, and Dena is gone. Why did 2 people I know have to die in just a couple of days…...... why????

January 19 , 1636
I had a horrible confrontation with my mother. I fear I have not been myself these past few days. I will record my conversation here for you to judge.
“Nadie, it is time to pay our respects to The Creator and Prickrose,” my mother told me.
“Who says there is even a Creator. Maybe its all just a hoax. A good Creator wouldn’t take Prickrose away.”
“Why Nadie, the only thing that gives me comfort during this horrid time is the fact that Prickrose is now with the Creator, happy and free from pain. How could you not believe in the Creator!” my mother cried nearly in tears.
“ Well I just do. Go pray to a non-existent thing alone,” I stated snootily.
My mother started to cry in huge sobs, almost as big as the ones she cried when Prickrose died. I couldn’t stand myself and walked away. Who makes their own mother cry, especially when my mother has to deal with so much grief? Obviously, the answer is me. Ever since Prickrose died I actually have been wrapped up in my self. But before that I was the ideal daughter and I never caused my mother to cry. But now it is as if I am not even myself. It’s all Prickrose’s fault. It’s her fault for leaving me here alone. All alone and I can’t even cry for her and Dena.

January 25, 1636
My mother is having crying fits and stays around the house like an invalid and this time it’s not only Prickrose. It’s also me. Okay I mean that she is worried about me. She’s never happy. I wish that I could cry. I need to cry. I just can’t seem to….

January 29, 1636
My mother’s friend Chiti came to visit her today. She brought along her son, Spiritfox. She immediately told him, in her opinion quietly, to snap me out of my stupor. He grabbed my arm and wrenched me into the woods while Chiti comforted my mother. Spiritfox loomed over me, though he was only a year older than me. He, Dena and I used to play together when we were younger. But now we are older and Dena is DEAD!!!!!!!He slapped me, HARD, on my face. My cheek smarted but no tears formed in my eyes. Spiritfox was a fool; he knew that physical pain didn’t hurt me. When we were but children we often got into fights. I never cried no matter how hard he hit me. He grabbed me and took me to the frozen river. The snow crunched beneath our feet as we walked down to the river.
“Look there", he said, pointing to a small fishing hole me and Dena had made right before she died. “Those are your memories. You cannot run away from them.”
“I can’t,” I stated simply.
“ Nadie, you are just alienating the few people you have left in the world. Your mother has suffered enough. You ought to think of others, not just yourself,” he said imitating a shaman.
“LEAVE ME ALONE! Do you know what it’s like being me right now???” my face trembled, “I can’t even cry for them. How would you know anything about how I feel? You haven’t said a word to me since two years ago, and now you presume you know anything about me!”
I slapped him back, running into the forest before he could reply. By the time I finally got winded I was at my secret grove. Then I remembered Dena, Spiritfox and I had played there way back when. I nestled down next to my favorite tree and leaned back against it, all the pain and grief from the earlier days getting to me.
Suddenly I felt a watery substance trickle down my rosy cheeks. I looked up to see if it was snowing but it wasn’t. Then I realized that I was crying. While crying for myself, my sister, Dena, my parents and all the Huron, I somehow sensed that we were doomed. Don’t ask me how, I have always had a good instinct for the future and I knew that we would all die somehow. It was all related to the smallpox….all of it. Crunch, footsteps were coming closer. I raised my wet eyes upwards and saw a tall dark figure. I leapt up and attacked the stranger with kicks and punches which would have made even the most skilled hunter proud.
“Ow, what did I ever do to you,” a familiar voice complained.
“ Everything,” I replied, unwilling to admit that I hadn’t recognized him. I am proud that way. I was glad that it was getting dark. He wasn’t able to see the tears still leaking out of my eyes.
“ Well come on, your mother will probably start worrying about you soon."
“Fine then! I’m going back.” I attempted to stalk off, but I tripped over a tree root. As I started to fall Spiritfox grabbed my arm. I almost stayed upright except Spiritfox lost his balance and tumbled down with me.
“UGH, I can’t walk two steps without stumbling, today,” I spit out a mouthful of snow. Suddenly, our eyes met, and then almost our lips and suddenly we were rolling down the hill, laughing like madmen. Spiritfox and I had forgotten about the fact that gravity can interrupt even the most precious of moments. When we finally stopped at the bottom of the grove, a minute later, we were both exhausted. I managed to crawl over to him, pinned him to the ground, he was limp in my grip. “Thanks for helping me,” I whispered grudgingly, and before he could get up, I ran into the trees, wanting to be alone. Finally, when I thought that everything was over I headed back home. I opened the door and found Chiti.
“Forgive me, child. Your mother has confided in me about what is wrong with her,” Chiti mumbled. Then seeing my confused look she elaborated. “Nadie, your mother has the smallpox”.
I shoved past her in shock and there lying down was my mother, sound asleep. I touched her forehead with my cheek and sure enough it was on fire. Suddenly my mother stirred.  
“I’m sorry Nadie. I didn’t want to worry you needlessly. I thought it was only a small bug until I saw some pox in my mouth. Nadie, I fear I will not survive this illness,” my mother said as she drifted back to sleep. I need to take care of my mother. She must survive, she must!

February 8, 1636
My mother is still ill. Wait she is speaking to me. I will record her words.
“Nadie, I must tell you something essential to your survival. Your father is an Algonquin. Since neither of us could bear leaving our tribes we went our separate ways. His mother’s name was Nadie so I named you after her. I believe she is still alive. I want you to leave me here and go to the Algonquin village south of here. I will die peacefully if you are safe. Pack up and leave me in a few days. Chiti and her family will care for me before I die. I feel that the whole tribe is doomed with death and I don’t want you to die too. You are the last of my family and I don’t want my line to be wiped out just yet.”
I will do as she says. If it will make my mother happy in her few precious days before death I will do as she wishes. I have already packed my belongings. I will put you in last so I can fill in the few days before I depart. I will go fill Chiti tomorrow about my mother needing her care. I know she will take care of my mother. It's just I don’t want to leave mom.

February 9, 1636
I went and told Chiti about my departure. I will record the conversation for your benefit.
“Good morning Chiti, I have been asked by my mother to leave town and go seek my father. My mother says that she wants me away form the village before I die. I would stay but as it is my mother’s last wish I have no choice but to obey her. Will you look after her in her last moments?”
“Of course Nadie, she has been my best friend since I was a child. I will not leave her to die alone. Spiritfox and I will do our best.”
“ Huh, what will I be doing?” Spiritfox asked groggily. Suddenly he got the somber gist and tried to catch my eye. Obviously, I avoided it. I had more important things to worry about.
“Chiti, I must leave now to prepare. Please come to my home tomorrow in the morning. I will set out then.”
After that I left. When I got home I saw my mother lying down, a weak but satisfied smile lingering on her face.
“Mother what is it???”
“I drew you a map. Once you have the map it will be easy for you to find the village.”
I started to cry. My mother started to cry with me and we just sat there for a few minutes crying. Eventually we stopped, mother sleeping and me reading the map. I am going to go eat now.

February 10, 1636
Chiti came over to care for Mom. I will leave now. Chiti told me not to worry and she would do her best to give Mother an easy passing. She and Spiritfox will care for her and keep her comfy.
Later I left my home. I was practically walking backwards the way I was looking back. I have been walking for 7 hours. I will stop to sleep in a bit.

February 12, 1636
It is so lonely walking alone to a village of strangers. I do not even know how my father looks like. I will know no one there. My mother thought my grandmother and I would hit off well. I hope so or my life will be terribly dull. I am going to go to sleep now.
February 13, 1636
I am writing in you because I feel that someone is watching me, stalking me. In case it is one of my enemies I want you to know my last moments. Wait I hear a thumping behind me. I will attack him with all my might. I do not want to die on my mother’s mission.

Later

It was Spiritfox who was stalking me. His mother became ill and told him to follow me. He says that my mother died peacefully on the 11th and that she was smiling as she died.We are almost at the village according to my map. My stomach is full of butterflies. I am excited about meeting my grandmother.
I will not look back at the pain as my journey ends; but rather, I will remember the happy moments I have shared with my family. The only way I can continue living is to move on. When I find my grandmother, I will give her this journal, in which my memories will live forever.