Kaden slammed the door to their room and flopped on his bunk in a huff. Slate glanced at the bottom of the top bunk with a grimace. "It's going to work out, Kaden," he said. "You know it will. You two have to be ok."

Kaden thrashed around on his mattress trying to settle his restlessness. He was upset with how everything'd panned out at Nora's. He didn't even respond to Slate's comments except to sigh.

Echoing the sentiment, Slate came out from under the bunk and grabbed a few things for the showers. "Gonna go clean up," he said. "Be back later, man."

"Yeah," Kaden replied listlessly.

Reaching down between his mattress and the bedframe, Kaden pulled out his flute. Fingering the holes in the wood, he tried to relax. He brought the ahpikòn up to his lips and began to play a song that used to be Nora's favorite. As he lost himself in the music, memories floated in his mind with the notes...

It'd been mid-day in late September. Everyone in his village was in high spirits. A large harvest had been reaped. The three sister crops, squash, maize and beans, were bountiful that year. In addition, hunting'd been successful and families were sent to bed with full stomachs and much gratefulness. Previous years'd been lean; nightly hunger pains were common-place. That year was different, though, and the tribe was happy. They'd spent numerous evenings around the bonfire thanking the Great Spirit for blessing them.

Despite his family's happiness, Kaden was disgruntled. He'd yet to bring home any meat himself that season. No one complained but he was at an age in which he felt he should be doing better. He took off for a walk in the forest to clear his mind.

When Kaden stumbled into a small clover patch an hour later he was surprised to find himself in the company of a small girl. She had an intricate braid woven through her hair, big blue eyes and tiny hands.

A worn throw blanket carpeted the ground and an assortment of items sat patiently for her mistress' attention.

Kaden glanced around and found they were alone.

What was this girl doing in the woods by herself? He wondered. Where were her chaperones or family? Why was she on their tribal lands? Did she know she was trespassing? And what, exactly, was she doing with those sticks? Surely she wasn't-

She was!

She was trying to start a fire!

The girl had no idea she was being watched as she continued to rub a horizontally-placed stick with a bow across a vertical one. She was trying to ignite the small coal sitting at the base of the vertical stick. Fascinated with her determination, and the pretty pink tongue sticking out of the side of her lips, Kaden stood behind some trees to watch.

Once the coal started smoking the girl bent over to breathe life into it before placing it among already gathered kindling. When she had a small fire going, the girl sat back on her haunches and smiled.

"I did it," she said to herself with pride.

"Yes," Kaden said, coming out of his hiding place. "The question is: Why? And: What are you doing here?"

Like most people caught unawares, Nora squealed with fright. When she saw the unfamiliar Native American boy, she jumped up and grabbed a small knife from her ankle. "Stay back!" She hollered bravely. "I don't want to hurt you."

It was all Kaden could do not to laugh. She'd been 100 pounds soaking wet and the knife she held was better suited for killing mice than men. Still, its blade did look rather sharp.

Tiny as it was, it was a beautiful piece, too. Intricate patterns were carved into the wood of the handle. Kaden admired its craftmanship.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he reasoned calmly. "But you are on our land. I want to know why."

Nora ran a hand through the babyfine hairs at her brow. She looked around the area as if an answer might pop up from beneath a toadstool or a shrub. "Ah," she began before trailing off. "I'm on a picnic."

"With a fire?" Kaden asked. "What are you making?"

Nora bit her lip and blinked at Kaden. She didn't know how to respond.

"Well?"

"Mea'n Fo'mhair," Nora replied. At his confused look, Nora continued. "I mean I'm celebrating it."

"What's Mea'n Fo'mhair?"

"It's a way for me to offer thanks for the blessings that have been provided to my family this year," Nora began.

"There's a little more to it than I can explain real quick, but basically, I came to make an offering to the god of the forest. I am celebrating the autumn equinox; a time of year in which there is an equal amount of light and darkness in our world. Balance between the two is perfect on this day."

Kaden didn't say anything at first. He was surprised at this girl's revelations. "So, how will you honor your god? How will you celebrate the balance of light and dark?"

"I'm going to boil cider and share it with the earth. I will leave a few apples for the creatures of the forest to eat. And, I have some cornbread to share with the birds, and you, if you care to join me."

"I would," Kaden replied. "As it turns out, I have something that I'd like to share with your god. Do you think he would accept my gift?"

Nora was touched by Kaden's offering and patted the space on her blanket for him to join her. "I do, but first, please tell us your name so we know who gives such a gift."

"My name is Kaden," he replied. "My mother's father chose it in honor of my other grandfather, his former best friend. He was an Irishman who'd joined our tribe many years ago. In Irish families it's traditional to pass down names, and my grandfather was trying to honor his friend's tradition. I have another more tribal name but Kaden is easier for most white settlers to pronounce. You may call me Kaden as well. What's your name?"

Nora smiled quietly as Kaden sat down to join her. She knew of the naming traditions Kaden spoke of, her being Irish herself. She didn't want to interrupt Kaden, though so she waited until he finished before introducing herself. "My name is Nora. I live a few miles to the East. I'm sorry for trespassing. I didn't realize I had. I have a tendency to wander."

Nora began to busy herself with a metal apparatus that held a little pot over the fire. She poured cider into the pot and left it to simmer. While she waited for the cider, Nora took some cornbread from within a folded piece of cheesecloth. She broke a portion off, setting it aside. Then she turned to her guest and handed him half of the remaining loaf. "Would you like some butter with your bread?" She asked him politely.

"Yes," he replied. "Thank you."

Next, after cutting up and sharing some apple slices as well, Nora readied the cider. She put aside a little cask of it and then split the remaining amount with Kaden.

"Slainte!" Nora said, toasting him. "It means good health to you!"

"Slainte!" Kaden said, returning the gesture of his host.

When they were finished their small meal, Nora stood up with her offerings. She took them to the base of the nearest Oak tree and placed them within a crop of roots rolling on the ground.

"Thank you," she whispered. "As day gives way to night, and the distancing sun gives way to winter, we celebrate all that stands in the balance today. We provide these small gifts as tribute. We share them with the creatures of the forest in your honor."

When she was finished, Nora came back to her seat. She waited to see what offering Kaden would make. He pulled a small instrument out of his clothing and Nora's eyes lit up in delight. "You're a musician!" She half asked and exclaimed.

Kaden closed his eyes and put his lips to the flute. He began to play a lively tune of merry celebration. Suddenly, Nora stood up and began to dance. Her laughter chased her steps and it wasn't long before Kaden was grinning from ear to ear.

She was like a faerie, prancing through the forest without a care in the world. When Kaden's song ended, Nora was still dancing in circles. She came to a stop eventually, though, and ran over to hug her new friend.

"Kaden!" She giggled. "That was wonderful! Thank you! The god of the forest is sure to be happy with your offering. You have made this a most joyous occasion, my new friend!"

When their dorm room door opened, Kaden opened his eyes and put down the ahpikòn. "Don't stop on my account," Slate commented. He rubbed his wet hair with the blue terry-cloth towel in his hands. "Sounds good."

"Thanks," Kaden replied. He looked at his flute and closed his eyes again before continuing to play.
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Reference:
*Dyanna. (2018). Mea'n Fo'mhair, Mabon Customs and Practices. Ravenhawks Magazine. Web Search 29 June 2020. Website: https://ravenhawksmagazine.net/2018/09/19/mean-fomhair-mabon-customs-and-practices/