Otilia Micaela de Luna


I can see her in my mind—like a dream.  The familiar genetic traits: The long dark hair and expressive brown eyes; the impassiveness of her countenance. Her name is Otilia Micaela de Luna, and she is my great-great-great Grandmother.
 
Otilia Micaela de Luna was a midwife and an expert herbalist who traveled from home to home and village to village ministering the poor and the sick of her time. For centuries woman in her lineage had been the unlicensed doctors of remote towns and villages. They were the anatomists and abortionists and nurses of their time. They were pharmacists, cultivating healing herbs and exchanging the secrets of their uses; learning from each other, and passing on experience from mothers to daughters.
 
Medicine was part of their heritage, but they lived with a vocation that for centuries had been far misunderstood. Thus, although these women were doctors without degrees, they were barred from public places and were deemed as witches and charlatans.
 
When Otilia Micaela de Luna was not engaged in helping people, one would always find her in her garden; as she was also notorious for her deep love of the natural world. Her fascination with roses opened up new and fantastic worlds that only the truly attuned with Nature were able to appreciate and enjoy.
 
At the gate of her small cottage was an arch dripping in pinks and reds from a lovely Old Damascena. There was a fountain on the right, almost lost in lush grasses and to the left, at the far end of Otilia’s little cottage, lay there a beautiful garden where several miniatures roses grew in borders under and in front of the taller bushes.
 
Dramatic borders of Sarabande roses grew in masses, and the fragrant Dortmund, against the whitewashed and sun faded picket fence, sprat out tall and beautiful as heaps of Paradise and Color Magic roses seem to sing sacred hymns to the morning air.

When the Beauty Secret put out their waves of bloom in springs, the entire garden would bow before their beauty. Joyful sounds and magical waves of glorious scents would waft from the garden in tints and shades the color of rainbows. Otilia knew that this was the fanfare with which Nature declare itself and try to communicate with humans. And thus Otilia heard the hum, and the chants, and saw all the magic spread upon the earth for humans to take pleasure in and benefit from, and took it all in, and nourish her soul with it. She was well aware of the way Nature communicates with man.
 
And thus, to the roses as she pruned them, to the tall delphiniums as she stalked them, to the colorful snapdragons and hollyhocks as she fertilized them—to every flower, big and small, she would give thanks and worship them, and tell them magical tales...

Blue birds would come by to say hello and cotton white fluffy clouds would puff happy smiled down at her as she worked and enjoyed her little cottage garden. It was said that one day, all of a sudden everything turned dark... the sun went away and out came the rain. And there was heavy rain tearing bits of cloud, and a wisp of mad air that whistled through the trees brought swirls and swirls of leaves and some sorts of blue rain that fell down all afternoon from the dark clouds. And then there was the terrifying sound of thunder and flashes of lightening.

Swish, swoosh cried the wind. Throughout the clouds it howled, and it fluttered, swished and rustled and swooshed like a mad monster... it was a bad storm. Water flooded the streets and the wind blew roofs and houses, and everybody got soaked to the bones by all the heavy rains. Except, of course, for Otilia Micaela de Luna. Everything in Otilia's house and garden was in perfect order despite the havoc of the weather. Not a single thing got wrecked, or blown away by the wind, nothing was wet or rained on; no water, no rain, no puddles.
 
"It's witchcraft"—people would said. You see, people were mystified by this strange occurrence, and could not explain this mystery otherwise. So rumors spread about Otilia owning a magical umbrella. She was a witch. She had a magic cauldron that boiled the water without any need to put them on the fire. And she used a crystal ball to see what people were doing and kept a witch’s broomstick hidden in her garden. But the witch's new gadget was her magical umbrella. An umbrella as big as the witch's house and as big as her back yard and gardens was. But best of all, an umbrella that had the power to protected the witch even from the vilest storm.

Nobody could see Otilia's umbrella—it was invisible, but oh they all knew she owned such a thing... what other explanation there was for such nonsense? None. None whatsoever.
 
An thus, poor Otilia was crushed by the same fate that for centuries had barren her ancestors from society—woman that were called witches, and were forced to leave their towns and villages and live in anonymity for the rest of their lives.

DEAR FRIENDS OF HOLLOW WOODS: Hollow Woods is not just a blog. It is also a book by the same name. The story you just read is one of the many fascinating stories which composes the pages of Hollow Woods. If you enjoyed reading my blog, now you can read the rest of the book by clicking HERE and HERE
Once you purchase my book, you can even print it out on your home computer. The book is fully downloaded onto your reading device so you can read it even when you're not wirelessly connected.
Thank you for visiting my e-book pages and making a comment too!

2 comments:

Jacqui said...

So enjoyed reading this!! wonderful

Romantik Evim said...

wow
so talented !!