The Pinpoint of Light

Once upon a time, long ago and more steps away than I can count, there was a little village near a river and very far from anything else. That village dwelt in darkness. This darkness was not metaphorical, as in ignorance. It was quite literal. The sun never shone. It was dark and cold like midnight under a cloudy in the middle of winter. The people huddled together for warmth. They wore sheepskin clothes to keep from freezing. Even their meager fires seemed to give no light or warmth, so complete was the darkness.

When it seemed the village would never see light again and despaired of all hope, the village elder called for Quaidulac the Shaman. Quaidulac had not been a shaman for long in this village. He had been caught sitting by the river’s edge some time before, thinking of how he could end his life because he was so cold and miserable. The people found him there, nearly frozen to death and called him Quaidulac, which means “Dreaming by the Water.”

“Quaidulac,” said the elder, “we are a people of darkness who dwell in darkness, but we cannot remain like this forever. We call on you to journey to the Kingdom of the Sun and beg of him to visit our little village so that we might have warmth and light. Therefore, take what herbs you need, your sheepskins, and your staff, and undertake this journey on our behalf.”

Now Quaidulac did not know what to do. He had never undertaken a spirit journey. He had simply been too cold to move when the people found him by the river. But he thought that it would be much better to travel to this Kingdom of the Sun that the elder spoke of than to stay here in the village and continue to suffer the cold and darkness. So Quaidulac packed a satchel of herbs, donned his warmest sheepskins, picked up his staff and left the village, vowing that he would return with the Sun and light.

Once away from the village, Quaidulac walked aimlessly in the darkness. He had no sense of direction, following the river when it let him and wandering in the forests when it did not. Wherever he went it was cold and dark. Then, when it seemed most hopeless and Quaidulac sat dreaming of the Kingdom of the Sun, he saw a pinpoint of light in the distance. It flickered and was gone and then came back again. Quaidulac rose at once to follow this pinpoint of light. It seemed so far away and often flickered out of his vision, but gradually it became steadier.

Quaidulac followed the light for many hundreds of steps, thinking always that it must get bigger or brighter, but it never seemed to change.

Then Quaidulac ran into a wall. He did not see the wall, so focused was he on the light. When he recovered his senses, Quaidulac realized that he had come to a cottage, and that the light he saw was a candle in the window. He found the door of the cottage and having scratched at the entrance he pushed it open and said, “Hello.”

“Hello, Quaidulac,” answered a voice in the darkness. “Come in and sit down. I have been waiting for you.”

Quaidulac entered the tiny cottage and sat beside the candle. He could faintly make out the figure of a person on the other side.

“Do you know how to reach the Kingdom of the Sun?” Quaidulac asked his host.

“I do,” said the voice. “I am your guide.”

“What are you called?” Quaidulac asked.

“I am called Candlemaker. I offer a pinpoint of light to guide the seeker,” the voice said. “Now, about your quest. No one ever reaches the Kingdom of the Sun.” Quaidulac was crushed. He was so certain a moment ago that his quest was over.

“But you said…”

“Yes. I will show you how to bring the Kingdom of the Sun to your village,” answered Candlemaker. “Kingdom of the Sun goes where it will and where it is wanted. You must call to it if you wish it to come to you.”

“And how shall I call?” asked Quaidulac.

“You must gather your village and teach them this chant,” Candlemaker answered. And thus Quaidulac began his education with Candlemaker. Candlemaker taught Quaidulac the chant and the lore of the Sun King. He told Quaidulac of the Sun King’s journey to far lands and his desire to return home. The Sun King, it seemed to Quaidulac, yearned for his village as much as his village yearned for it.

“But surely this is too simple,” said Quaidulac. “How will I get my people to believe such a simple chant can bring the Sun back.”

“Take this candle back to your village,” answered Candlemaker. “Have your people look deeply into its flame when they chant. They will see the Sun King approach.”

So Quaidulac thanked Candlemaker and took the candle and returned to his village.

When Quaidulac gave his people the instructions Candlemaker had given him, they were doubtful, but they gathered round the candle and stared into its flame. Soon they began to chant.

“Kum dada. Kum dada tudé. Kum dada. Kum dada sundé.” Over and over they repeated the chant, and as they looked into the flame, the flame grew brighter and in its depths they saw the Sun King returning to the land and daybreak came to the tiny village.

The people were ecstatic. They rose and danced. They chanted and laughed. Day came and chased away the night. And then the days became longer and longer. And soon there was no night.

Now you might think this was a happy ending to the story, but you would be mistaken.

Where the people had been cold, now they were hot. They stopped chanting the Sun chant and hid the candle, but the Sun King was comfortable in the village and stayed. The people found it difficult to sleep in the bright light. The water dried up and the people were thirsty and the animals were hungry as the grass withered in the fields. The people tore the arms off their sheepskin jackets and wore only the vests.

And finally the elder went to Quaidulac the Shaman, and said. “Quaidulac, go to the Moon Queen and beg mercy of her, for all the people will perish in this heat. Take your herbs, your sheepskin, and your staff and undertake this quest for us.” And so Quaidulac took his herbs, his sheepskin, and his staff and set off to find the Moon Queen and beg her to return.

The light was now so bright that Quaidulac could no longer see the shapes of things around him, so he wandered aimlessly searching for the Moon Queen. At long last, he saw a speck of darkness in the distance. It was there and then it was not there as if the darkness flickered in the light, then returned. Quaidulac walked on toward the darkness until he ran into a wall that he could not see and discovered that the pinpoint of darkness was a candle that burned a black flame. He found the door of cottage and after he had scratched called out.

“Hello? Candlemaker are you there?”

“Hello Quaidulac. Come in and sit down. I have been expecting you,” said Candlemaker. So Quaidulac entered the cottage and sat down next to the black flame. Across from him he could barely make out the shadow of Candlemaker.

“Candlemaker,” said Quaidulac, “the Sun King has come to my village and will not leave. The water has dried up, the grass has withered, and the people cannot sleep. I must travel to the Moon Queen and beg her to return to our village, but I do not know how to reach her.”

“You cannot reach her,” said Candlemaker, and Quaidulac despaired.

“Then we are doomed,” said Quaidulac.

“No,” said Candlemaker. “You must call her to you as you called the Sun King.” And so, Quaidulac underwent his training in the chants of the Moon Queen. When he was ready to return to his village, Candlemaker gave him the candle that burned with a black flame and told him to have the people stare into the darkness and summon the Moon Queen.

When Quaidulac got back to his village, the people all gathered around. They anxiously peered into the dark flame and began to chant Candlemaker’s chant.

“Kum mama. Kum mama bak bak. Kum mama. Kum mama tunak.” Over and over they chanted the summons for the Moon Queen to return and soon darkness appeared on the horizon and night fell. The nights grew gradually longer as the Sun King was driven from the village and the Moon Queen smiled on them. But when the nights grew very long, and darkness and cold threatened to overwhelm the village, the people hid away the black flame and drew out the white flame. Then they repeated the summons for the Sun King and the days got longer.

And so it has been from that time since. When the winter nights are longest and darkness seems to overwhelm all, the people come together to chant over the white candle.

“Kum dada. Kum dada tudé. Kum dada. Kum dada sundé.”

And when the days grow long and hot and the grain is ripening in the fields, the people draw forth the black flame Candlemaker gave them, and again they chant.

Kum mama. Kum mama bak bak. Kum mama. Kum mama tunak.”

So the people learned that they could look into both the candle of light and the candle of dark without fear, for it was what was in their hearts that drew the day and the night, and both were good in their own way.

That village was my village, and this is the sheepskin vest that I wear as a reminder of our humble task.

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