Emily Muskrat was ten years old. She lived with her family on a reserve in Manitoba, north of Lake Winnipeg. Emily had a younger sister named Hattie whom she often looked after.
Emily's father worked for a First Nations organization as a community health worker. He visited First Nations communities to help develop local health programs. Emily's mother was a teacher's aide at the local school. Emily took care of Hattie on Saturday afternoons when her parents went to town to shop for food.
One Saturday, Emily was playing cat's cradle. Hattie watched her weave the tiny string between her two hands. As Emily continued to create designs, Hattie said, “how me how to do that.” pointing to the cradle between her sister's hands.
Emily replied, “Spread your hands and fingers.” Emily wrapped the string around Hattie's thumbs. “Move your fingers like this,” she said as she showed Hattie how to wind the string between her fingers and hands. It was not easy for Hattie to make a cat's cradle.
While Hattie struggled to make a cradle, Peter Crane rode his old bicycle past the girls. Emily made a face at Hattie when they saw Peter because Peter often wore old and worn-out jeans when he played and rode his bicycle. Neither girl spoke to Peter as he went by.
As the two sisters were playing, Old John walked along the path by their home. He saw the two girls playing cat's cradle. Hattie showed Old John her first cat's cradle. Old John smiled and waved the girls over to him. Old John spoke softly to the girls. “I'm going to tell you a story,” he said. “It is about the lily root.” He motioned to the two girls to sit beside him on the small bench.
Old John began his story. "One day, Shomis (used in certain Ojibway-speaking communities to mean 'old man' or 'grandfather') and his grandson were walking in the bush. They came upon a small river with a big pond. Shomis saw some water lilies in the pond. He asked his grandson to get him a lily root. Lily roots were important to Shomis. When he dried the root and ground it into powder, it became medicine. Shomis would use this medicine to keep healthy.
His grandson removed his boots and socks. Then, he rolled up his pant legs. When he stepped into the pond, he felt the mud ooze between his toes. Shomis stood on shore and pointed to the lily plant he wanted.
When the boy reached the lily plant, his pants and legs were wet and muddy. The oozing muck from the bottom of the pond was smelly and dirty. He reached into the water quickly to pull out the root.
“Be careful,” Shomis told him. “You must not break the root when you pull it up. The medicine will be spoiled if it is taken from a broken root.”
When his fingers were around the root, his grandson gave a hard yank. Nothing happened. He put his other hand around it.
“Be careful, now,” instructed Shomis.
When he yanked the second time, the boy's shirt became wet with the muddy water. But the root still did not move. The boy could hear his grandfather on the shore. “Reach deeper with both hands,” said Shomis.
Very slowly, the boy bent over the beautiful white lily flower. He reached with both hands for a better grip around the root. His shirt sleeves were soaked. He pulled hard. The root refused to budge.
Finally, he realized he would have to get all wet with the muddy water. It still smelled. He held his breath. Quickly, his face went under water. He bent right over the plant with both hands deep around the stubborn root. He pulled and pulled. When the root came free he almost fell over in the water.
He walked back to shore to Shomis. He was wet from head to toe. His skin was itchy. Mud covered his feet, his pants, and his shirt. He carried the lily in his muddied hands. At one end of the plant was the beautiful white flower. At the other end was the muddy root.
As Shomis cleaned the mud from the lily root, he hummed softly. Then he cut off the flower.
He looked at his grandson who stood beside him. He was wet and muddy. His clothes smelled like the muddy pond. His toes and feet were still slippery with mud. Shomis laughed at the sight of his grandson.
Shomis held the lily root very gently. “This will make me feel strong and healthy,” he said to the boy. Next to Shomis, the beautiful white flower lay discarded on the ground. “The root is more important than the flower,” he said. “Many people are interested only in the pretty flower,” he said. “Remember the lily root.”
Hattie and Emily sat quietly next to Old John. They listened carefully to everything Old John told them. The story was over. Old John stood up. He patted Hattie on the head and walked away. Emily and Hattie walked to their house. They, too, would remember the lily root.
