Life on the Prairie

       

Elizabeth

 

Middle waters child,

Taught by the Nuns and Black Robes,

Still true to her own.

 

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Child of the prairie,

Taught by earth, wind, buffalo,

Proud Osage woman.

 

The short story, "Elizabeth's Journey," received second place at the first 2014 Astra Festival of Arts' writing contest in Independence, Kansas.

Please note this blog posts the first and third weeks of each month.

Prairie Girls

 

Elizabeth

I am Elizabeth. My Osage name is Hoo-tha`-to-me, and I attended the school Father Schoenmakers established in 1847 in Osage Mission. Originally the school was for Osage boys only, but shortly after it opened, the Sisters of  Loretto came from Kentucky to open a school for girls, too. I missed my family while attending  the boarding school. My friendship with Anna, another Osage girl, eased my homesickness.

Anna and I often rode our horses on Sunday afternoons, but one afternoon we rode too far from the school. While we were picking wild plums, we were surprised by a bear. I knew I had to be brave if we were to be safe. We did escape, but Mother Bridget, the principal, was angry with us for riding so far from the school.

 

Campout

One of the responsibilities I had as a seventh grade teacher at my middle school was to help sponsor a day campout at our local reservoir each spring. I felt relieved I was not an eighth grade teacher because they actually did campout and spend the night. It required weeks of preparation planning for the day. Meals, activities, events, students and more had to be coordinated. Each year I was amazed to see it work and how much the kids enjoyed the day.

The park rangers were a great source of ideas and help. They led small groups of students through the resources available at the lake. Activities ranged from identification of plants and animals, a partial zoo of animals (including the favorite: snakes), and hiking trails. My job changed over the years. Sometimes I did arts and crafts using beads I collected throughout the months preceding our fieldtrip and my favorite: Indian folklore about our area of the state.

Although I can’t really say I missed it when I took a job at the high school, it was fun to see students who had never fished, paddled a canoe, shot a black powder musket or shot an arrow do so for the first time.

Missions and Education

Missions and Education

Missionary work and education worked together in the Christianizing of the New World following its discovery. The Catholic Church took the lead in this endeavor in the Americas. The earliest universities were founded by priests. Native Americans liked the esthetics of the churches, but seldom enjoyed the structured life required by most religions. Nearly all the work at the missions was performed by the newly Christianized peoples. This proved to be true as other churches such as the Presbyterians, Methodists and Baptists entered the picture.

Once a church established itself with a particular Native American tribe, it built schools taught by the religious missionaries. There were usually two forms of school: a day school often run on the reservation or a boarding school. Elizabeth attended the second school. Most of these institutions tried to remove the cultural and tribal ways of life. Instead of accepting the Native Americans, religious leaders believed changes had to take place. They must give up their ways of living and doing to be fully Christianized. The result for so many tribes was eventual destruction.

For more information the following websites might be helpful:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Methodist_Mission

http://www.pbs.org/indiancountry/history/boarding.html

http://www.catholichistory.net/Spotlights/SpotlightMissionaries.htm

http://www.archives.gov/research/alic/reference/native-americans.html

 

 

 

 

 

Jams

 

Prairie Recipes

By

Collette

Recipes abound for the making of jellies, jams or preserves. The nuns at Elizabeth’s school might have used the following 138 year-old recipe.

Strawberry Jam

4 cups of sugar

4 cups whole strawberries

Mix two cups of sugar and ½ cup water; bring to a boil. Add two cups strawberries; cook for ten minutes. Add remaining two cups of sugar; stir until dissolved. Add remaining two cups of berries; boil for ten minutes. Pour into shallow pan; cool overnight. This allows the strawberries to stay plump and whole. Place in sterilized jars; seal. Process in hot water bath for ten minutes. Yield: 2 pints.

If the nuns did not use a water bath, they might have placed a thin layer (1/4  inch) of melted paraffin on top of the jelly and then sealed the jars. Still another way was to heat jars in boiling water, add hot jam mixture to the hot jars, seal them and turn upside down to cool. Neither one of these methods is recommended by the FDA today.

Many people like the simplicity of refrigerator or freezer jams and jellies. The following is a simple, easy recipe.

Refrigerator Strawberry Jam

1 pound fresh, trimmed and halved strawberries 2-3 teaspoons lemon juice

2/3 to 1 cup granulated sugar                               red food coloring

2 tablespoons powdered fruit pectin

Mash berries leaving some larger pieces. Using a heavy skillet place berries, 2/3 cup sugar, pectin and lemon juice in the pan. (Start with 2/3 cups sugar and add more if berries are not sweet.) Boil five minutes or until slightly thickened; add a few drops of food coloring, if desired. Cool; place in sterilized glass jars. Seal tightly and refrigerate keeping up to three weeks. Yield: 2 pints

 

 

Indian Legend

Story Tellers Corner

There is a hill near my house that overlooks a river. The area has always interested me along with most teenagers who grew up in my home town. On top of the mound is an abandoned cement plant and the remnants of a little town can still be seen. Cement production at the plant ended by 1920. Most people can’t help feeling like they are looking at a ghost town when walking through it. Scary stories have been told about the mound since I was a child, and part of my fascination with it is the fact my dad and his family grew up there.

My favorite story is a Native American tale, and it would have been about an Osage couple since the tribes often camped and hunted near the mound. The legend goes they were star crossed lovers from different bands of the tribe. Their marriage had been arranged with other partners. Desolated over the decision, they climbed to the top of the mound and with joined hands jumped into the river and drowned.

I am certain this could not have happened the way the story described the incident because the river no longer runs next to the mound. They would have had to jump a good 20-30 feet in most places to land near any water. Still, it was a romantic tale for a young girl fascinated with the ruins of what was.

Music, Anyone

 

Music, Anyone?

                                                                               byJudy

 “Please, mom, pretty, pretty please. I’ve just got to be in band,” my daughter said. She was beginning middle school and several of her friends were going to be in band too. I played the saxophone in the high school marching band myself and certainly supported my daughter’s ambition to march in the band. I was not familiar with the words “band geek” yet.

My daughter and I scheduled a trip to our local music store. She decided upon a flute. Another choice I supported. I remembered lugging a cumbersome alto saxophone on and off the school bus. There were several options available for obtaining an instrument. I could rent one, purchase a used one or purchase a new one. I was pretty sure my daughter first-born child possessed exceptional musical talent and nothing but the best would do for her. Price was of no concern, and there was an easy lay-away plan available.

The shiny, bright flute practically glowed in its case with the royal blue plush interior. It set in a place of honor on my middle-schooler’s dresser. She practiced faithfully at home each week. My family endured…oops…I mean enjoyed the middle school band concerts. I was a proud band mother, bumper sticker and all.

Daughter number one continued to play the flute and march in the band throughout high school. Of course, the weekly practice sessions at home were long a thing of the past; and it took a while to find the flute at the beginning of each school year. Sometimes it would be in the bottom of my daughter’s closet or under one of her brothers’ beds, but she did so enjoy the band trips and marching in the home football games.  

One of the first things she packed when she left for her freshman year of college was her flute. The case was a little battered, but the flute itself still gleamed. I envisioned impromptu musical sessions with dorm mates. Truly, I felt justified having spent so much on her flute when she was in the 6<sup>th</sup> grade.

Even though one child was away from home in college, I was still busy. I worked full time and still had three children at home. A couple of years passed before I thought about my daughter’s flute again. My other daughter was preparing to leave for college. In fact, she was packing her violin. Suddenly I remembered her sister’s flute. “I wonder if your sister ever plays her flute,” I mused aloud.

“Mom, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure she sold it her first week at college. But don’t worry, I won’t sell my violin,” my younger daughter answered. Turns out she was right. The flute was sold. What college freshman doesn’t need more money?

And the violin, while not sold, sets forlornly in a closet next to a snare drum. Fortunately, I rented the cello as there’s not a lot of closet space in this house.  I should have seen this all coming, though. Did I mention I have not played the saxophone since the day I graduated high school?