Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world.

Special Treat – Tanja Cilia

September 5, 2007

The Legend of The Flowers

A Story of the Aboriginal People of Australia

Adapted by Mario Azzopardi

Translated by Tanja Cilia

It was The Time of The Drought in the Land of the Wirri-Nuni.  All the flowers had died.   There were no flowers in the fields, none in the valleys, and none in the hills.

The Drought had begun after the death of Biani, the Shaman of the Wirri-Nuni who had returned to the Dreamtime.  The flowers started dying.  The younger generation of the tribe did not even know what a flower was; their mothers and grandmothers had to try and explain this to them.  A land without flowers is a desolate land – and indeed, the sadness was etched in the very faces of the people.

To top it all, as a consequence of there being no flowers, the bees had deserted the area.  A dearth of bees means a lack of honey.

In all the lands belonging to the Wirri-Nuni, there were only three trees in which the honey bees dwelt.  But the tribe was bound by strict orders from Biani the Shaman, before he departed for the Dreamtime, somewhere far,  far away, high up in the skies, who had decreed that they were not to touch the honey.

Watching over the tribe  was The Spirit Who Sees All, who traversed back and forth from the Land of the Wirri-Nuni to the Dreamtime, in order to report to Biami all that was happening.

“Oh, Wise Biani, I simply have to tell you that your people have no flowers, and consequently, no honey  which to feed to their children.”

“What about the three trees where there are the hives?”

“Nobody  dares approach them, Oh Wise Biani, and nobody would have the nerve to take honey from them, for so you had ordered.”

Biami was overjoyed to hear that his people obeyed him still, despite the fact that he was dead. He said to The Spirit Who Sees All,  “The Wirri-Nuni have obeyed my command.  I will send them manna, which will flow down the tree-trunks like translucent water. It will be gathered and eaten in lieu of honey.”

That did indeed transpire, and once more the Wirri-Nuni had sweetmeats for their offspring.

However, they were still grief-stricken at the absence of flowers.  They were so terribly upset, and they so wanted their world to be once more suffused with flowers , as it had been before Biami's death, that they considered journeying to the Dreamtime in order to ask him to make it rain, so that the land might bloom once more.

That is indeed what they did.  They selected conscientious and worthy men and youth to make the journey to the North, where, according to a vision sent to them by The Spirit, there was a very high mountain called Ubi-Ubi.  This mountain was so high that its crest was wreathed in clouds.  Nobody had any inkling of how it would be possible to climb such  steep crags.

Eventually, they found a tiny cleft in the rock face… and another… and another… tiny crevices, one above the other, that made a stepladder of sorts in the side of the mountain.  They began climbing, but after a full day’s journey, the peak of the mountain was still hidden in the clouds.  And so it was on the second day, and on the third day too.  However, on the fourth day they began to perceive the summit.

They found a large crater, full of cool, fresh, clear water, with which they quenched their great thirst.  Then they noticed a circle of stones.  This piqued their curiosity, and so they entered the circle. 

The voice of  The Spirit Who Sees All, Messenger of Biani,  echoed around them.

“Why are you here?”

“We want to plead with our Leader Biami, who is in the Dreamtime.”

“Did he not send you the Manna?”

“Yes, and for that we are truly grateful.”

“So what else do you want?”

“We yearn for flowers to grow on our lands again so that their colours will bring us delight.”

The Spirit Who Sees All ordered his Subordinate Spirits to guide the delegation to the very top of the Magic Mountain, Ubi-Ubi, and lead them to the Sacred Circle, where grew the flowers that never die.

And so it came to pass that a  gentle breeze lifted the Wirri-Nuni towards the Sacred Circle, which leads to the Heavens.  An awe-inspiring sight met their eyes: acres upon acres of flowers, a veritable carpet without beginning or end; a rainbow of hues.  They were so happy that tears of joy welled in their eyes.

“Feel free to take as many blooms as you like, of any type and of any colour.”

And that is what they did.

After they had cut armloads of  flowers,  they heard the voice of Biami, which they recognised immediately, coming from above.

“Go, my good people, and scatter those flowers across your lands, and you will see the return of the bees. They will produce honey and you will be happy once more.

So did it take place.

The Subordinate Spirits lead them back to their homeland, and all the tribe, including the little ones, scattered the flowers far and wide, and immediately the air was saturated with an incredible scent.

Tanja Cilia

tanjachilja@hotmail.com