Eagle story. It’s not quite a story of sin and redemption. But it is a story of crime and reconciliation—a very lighthearted one.

On the Jewish calendar, it’s the week of Parshat Haazinu. In synagogue, we read a poem describing God as a mother eagle. On the Canadian calendar, we observed the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. This sweet story is relevant to both.p

Picture it: Haida Gwaii. Remote chain of Islands. Oceans, bays, and coves. Wild narrow beaches and tall wooded mountains. Homeland of the Indigenous Haida people. A great place to visit for learning, for kayaking, and for hiking.

Charles and I are there with our two adult children.

It’s June but it’s winter. Highs of ten degrees (celsius). Rain every day. And, one day, a big storm.

And, of course, that’s the day we hike the Pesuta Shipwreck Trail. Winds whip across the beach; rain stings our faces. A family of eagles rides the winds; the parents come close to check us out.

We make it to the shipwreck, our faces protected, eyes pointed to the ground.

And then I see it. A perfect eagle flight feather. Dry, sand-free, freshly moulted. I look up and we are right under the nest.

I am elated. And I think, Mama eagle gave this feather to me—specifically to me—as a gift. So I pick it up and put it in my pack.

But back at the cabin, my euphoria fades. I realize that I am not supposed to possess an eagle feather. Only Indigenous people who use eagle feathers in ceremony can have them.

So…I wrap the feather up in three layers of cloths and put it deep into my suitcase.

No one confronts me—only my own conscience. Day after day. For six weeks.

Then my Indigenous friend Rev. Elder John Snow of the Stoney Nakoda visits from Calgary. So I blurt out: “John, do you use eagle feathers in ceremony?” He does. But, he says, “I cannot accept this precious gift unless I give you something in return.”

So, two days later we meet in Epiphany Chapel. John, his wife Trish, and me. I wrap the eagle feather in a cloth napkin and place it on a table. Trish adds a braid of sweet grass and a pouch of tobacco. She burns some sage. John reads Psalm 103, “God satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.” I sing a verse from Exodus 19, “I carried you on eagles’ wings, and brought you back to me.” Then I unwrap the feather, and give it to Trish, who places it in John’s hands. They give me the tobacco and sweet grass as a gift.

The next day John and Trish visit Vancouver Island. In a dollar store, they chat up a stranger. Turns out, he is a Cowichan master carver. He offers to carve a special wooden box for the feather, and decorate it with a mythical Thunderbird.

About all this, Charles likes to say: “You did the right thing. And it blossomed into a little flower of blessing between Jewish, Haida, Stoney Nakoda, and Cowichan peoples.”