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A Piece of History
My eye has been scanning the ground now for the past day- eyes like a broom brushing the crevices of the floor. I had all but given up, until, at last, my eyes rested on a small silver coin held by a leather tie on the ground in the parking lot- right beside my car- insert trumpet fanfare and choral jubilation here.
Why the joy? The treasure that I found is a coin dated 1779, during Louis XVI’s reign. If that connection to history is not enough, the coin has a story in the book of my life.
My grandfather knew he was dying of cancer, so he decided to have a party of sorts- to give away important objects. I was ten at the time, and while all of the older grandchildren were getting gifts, I was left out- I was crushed. Then at the very end of the ‘party,’ my grandfather and my great-aunt took me aside and gave me my gift- it was a small black wallet with rare coins. I was in awe. They told me they thought I would appreciate the history and significance of these treasures. I filed this memory in the chapter of my life entitled ‘rare gifts that helped to shape the person I would like to be’.
In my teenage years and in university I wore the coin in memory of my grandfather and to demonstrate my love of history and the past. I asked a history teacher that specialized in French history about it one year and he told me it was a French Ecu. I’m sure there was more information he imparted, but I have forgotten it. The coin was a link to my grandfather and the past- that was enough.
The first time I lost the coin I was going out to dinner with my boyfriend from university. When I got home from the dinner I realized that the coin was gone. My agony was palpable. To my utter amazement and joy, my boyfriend returned the coin to me weeks later. How did he find it? He had gone to every pawn shop and antique store he could find looking for it- he found it. It was without bravado that he mentioned that had it not a hole drilled into it- it would have been too much for him to buy back. After this, it developed another significance: a symbol of loyalty and commitment.
Will I wear it again? Possibly. I am simply not the type of person who believes we should keep our most cherished possessions in a cabinet to be dusted off and then put away- but I will get a new chain for it and wear it only on very special occasions.
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Posted in history and literature, primary resource, Uncategorized
Tagged coins, family, French Revolution, history, thoughts
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The Owl: Our Relationship with Nature
I have a picture of an owl that my best friend painted for me. It stands sentinel over my work area at home. For me it is a symbol of wisdom, patience and a love of knowledge. I have always loved owls. I partially attribute this to Mr. Dressup, who used to talk to a picture on the wall of an owl. I forget the owl’s name, but I remember he always used to say, “Twit twoo,” and talk in rhyme- twentieth century oracle?
As time progressed I began to learn about Greek mythology, Native stories and was drawn to National Geographic magazines that featured the owl. I had the fortune to meet an owl on a walk a couple of years ago. To my amazement, it stayed long enough to get its picture taken. I soon realized it was stalking a wee mouse in the bushes.
The picture leads me to consider the origin of the characteristics that we attribute to certain animals, plants, seasons and the actual merit of this relationship.
The owl for example- the origin of this synaptic meandering- is considered by the Greeks to be associated with Athena who was the Goddess of war, wisdom and justice to mention but a few. Why an owl as her symbol? One source I looked at said that Athena might have been a bird Goddess before being welcomed into the Greek pantheon.
Could it be that the relationship between the owl and Athena is more about their shared characteristics?
The owl is nocturnal, a bird of prey and predominantly solitary. Athena is supposed to be a virgin- a characteristic that is best suited to a solitary life such as a monk or a nun. Athena is also seen as the huntress or a Goddess of war- the owl is a bird of prey. Stealth and surprise- concepts used in battle- are used to hunt for their victims. Owls use their large eyes, again a nod at the grey eyed Pallas Athena, to hunt for live food. The relationship between the owl and the Greek Gods is evident in the creation story of the Greek pantheon: Chronos, like the owl, swallowed his victim’s whole.
A nod at justice must be considered when you realize that a group of owls are a ‘parliament’.
Our ancestors learned though observation and investigation of their natural environment. Industrialism, and the great push forward, gave us electricity, credit, shortened work days (possibly), increased scientific inventions and much more. With this also comes a move away from the land, and the past. Every once in a while you will hear in the news about a new discovery that was uncovered- a knowledge that was all but dead: a cure-all plant, re discovery of the stars, an new way of seeing our relationship with the natural world.
In short, the owl reminds me that there are many mysteries of the present that can be answered through looking at the past. What an amazing gift!
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Letter from the Front
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Posted in Art, history and literature, Kingston, Uncategorized, World War One
Tagged censored mail, history, primary document, World War One
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Excerpt from Gran’s journal
Friday November 5th, 1920
This was such a mild day that I rode my byke to the bank ( of Montreal where she worked in Kingston). I forgot to take my purse with me, but it didn’t matter, as I could get it out of the bank,. I did some shopping after I got out, and then rode my wheels home. Mother was over at the Hughes at an afternoon tea. She came soon after and we had tea. I got another letter today from Osborne Lackey, such a nice letter it was: he told me he was engaged to a Scotch lass, but he said he hoped I would write to him anyway and also wanted to see me in Toronto if I came.
After tea Miss. Brien had a caller and had him downstairs (was great gran taking roomers in?) in the drawing room and he smoked some vile tobacco and made mother furious.
This is Guy’s (her brother) birthday. We sent him a box of goodies and I put in a tie and ‘hanky’ also. This is Guy’s 27th birthday. He hasn’t been home for a birthday for a good many years now.
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Posted in 1920s, history and literature, Kingston, primary resource
Tagged 1920s, journal, picture, Primary resource
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Brushed With Mystery 
