Remember Nimama,
Remember the path you walked between the trees, checking the trap line, to see what dinner would be.
Remember the warmth of the stove and the heat of your siblings snuggled next to you on the floor.
Remember your younger brothers eyes glistening in the dark as your mother fed him in the night by candlelight.
Remember the tall trees and how they were once giants swaying with the breeze.
Remember your Dada leaving for days, how you would miss him, and how he always returned with food.
Remember the long winters, and how you would wrap pelt around your soft skin to protect you from the harsh cold.
Remember your Kookum and how she would sing and tell you stories late at night and you would lay awake in wonder.
Remember the porridge on the stove and how you taught us to dip our buttery toast in for a special treat.
Remember the smell of moccasins and beaver hats and moose hide as your parents sat in the quiet and sewed together.
Remember the contagious laughter and late nights listening to the games on the radio.
Remember your Dada's voice, and how the sound of it calmed every worry.
Remember your mother's hands, how they taught you many skills to pass on to your children.
Remember your siblings, as young children, full of hopes, dreams and laughter.
Remember your home, deep in the north, nestled in the heart of the wilderness, far away from shopping malls and corporate towers, and let your heart swell with pride.
Remember Nimama. Remember the peace. Remember the good way. Remember your home.
Photo by Mary Beardy. Taken in Muskrat Dam, Ontario.
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