Nobody Knows ‘da Trouble I’ve Seen

Nobody Knows ‘da Trouble I’ve Seen | Reflections On Being A Motherless Child

On Friday, I went to a Visitation for Ms. Polly. My family is connected to the Hardy’s from Daniel Hill. Her funeral is the first since attending my momma’s two years ago. Ms. Polly’s body was placed like Momma’s and Mama’s. Visitors paying respect mingled in and out looking at her flowers and commenting on how realistic she had been made up to look. In that moment, I saw my own funeral and heard Mama saying, “We’re only promised three score and ten.” I’m three years away from seventy thinking about what will be said about me at my funeral. People will forget everything I’ve said and done and only remember how I made them feel.

What is my story? Classmates, who graduated with me from Darden, remember a quite girl described as being pretty with long hair. I’m dismissed as having no significance, which is how I felt during the six years I attended Darden High School. The more connections I make with Daniel Hill, the more I connect with my own history. My story begins at the Awakening of Fort Neyuheru:ke which empowered me to be a catalyst for reconnecting Algonquin Textiles shared with me through my multi-generational Moon Lodge upbringing.

Daniel Hill is alive inside of me because of a sweet kiss on Sunday, June 10th that awakened a 62-year-old connection to Daniel Hill. My story is unfolding all around me. I participated in the greatest event of my life, Indigenous Fashion Week Toronto. I’m content and my heart is over joyed with visions of color and cloth.

The sharp tongue mean-spirited vengeance that’s engulfing our society today is a pit in hell to be avoided. I refuse to travel down below because my heart is hardened towards others when I’ve made mistakes. I’m a helpless sinner unable to help anyone including myself. It’s only because of the Saving Grace of Jesus and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit that I can do anything. We all have days when we get up on top of the world and by lunchtime, the world is on top of us. It’s part of being human. However, every human being deserves to be treated with dignity.

Our roadmap on behavior is explained in the greatest letter ever written, the book of Romans. A man transformed by a Risen Savior while traveling the Damascus Road wrote this Epistle. It’s words like justification, redemption, salvation, righteousness and sanctification clearly outline my responsibilities as a follower of the Nazarene. So before my shrouded body is made up to look like I’m sleeping and put on view with images of my life scrolling across a monitor, what story am I living? What words will describe me?

Our mother’s are ourselves and membership in the motherless child club is a difficult cross for women to bear. It’s where the rubber meets the road in our personal growth and development as human beings. But, death ends our time in this world of the living and “only by faith in things unseen” can we anticipation an eternal existence. Encouraged by my mother’s words, “If you get, give!” “If you learn, teach!” I focus my energy on indigenous Textiles and the dreams of Sage Paul Cardinal, Amy Desjariais, Gillian Kyle and Sarah Dennis-Kooji.

Published by Carola Jones, Artist

Indigenous Artist, Writer, Designer | Internet Techie | Pow Wow Dancer | Lover of Dyeing Cloth Especially With Indigo, Madder & Marigold | 4th Generation Hand Embroidery & Sewing Enthusiastic | Working Traveler | NC Toisnot & Mattamuskeet Tuscarora & FL Seminole | Algonquin Gullah Mixed Blood

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