Ashe' Elegba, Ashe' Papa Legba, Ashe' Eleggua, Ashe' Exu, Elegba Madupe,
Papa Legba Madupe, Ellegua Madupe, Exu Madupe, Hail, welcome, honor to the Orishas,
Beloved, revered, and respected be the Orishas, Open the gates to the City of
Saints.
The Old One begins....
And God was tired.
Each prayer must be answered, each sacrifice honored,
And God was tired.
Each person must be respected, each cry of the helpless remembered.
And God was tired.
So out of all of the servants of Creator, Obatala, the Weaver, was chosen
to weave a great banquet cloth and invite all of the Orishas, all of the Saints,
all of the Egungun, all of the Loa, all of the Guardian Spirits to a great feast,
that Creator might give to each of them a task, a burden, a charge.
And the spirits came, some well shaped spirits of fire, some sinuous spirits
of water, some gruff and belligerent spirits of earth, some absent-minded spirits
of air, some who moved from earth to sea to sky, all of them crowded through
the gates of the Creator into the banquet hall. From the greatest to the least
they came, from the oldest Seraphim to the youngest, almost a babe in arms,
the Orisha Elegwa, the child.
Now the feast was prolonged, and as each dish was served, some Spirits
became greedy and argumentative.
The spirits of water fought, and Oya took the eggplant and the power of
the whirlwind; Aphrodite took the champagne, bubbling from its cork and ruled
the sea foam, Yemaya spied the fish, and so took the waves of ocean, and Neptune
the fork from the table and so the currents of the Inner Sea. Olokun took the
seaquake and tsunami, and even Proteus took a hand, taking a jellyfish as his
totem, ever changing its shape.
The spirits of fire became unruly. Hephaestus and Oggun fought over the
forge and the fire, Prometheus stole in and took a brand for humanity, Shango
rose to a magnificent height and took a dish of hot peppers.
The spirits of air sang in disharmony. Oba's breeze was fought at every
turn by Aeolous's sons, even Ruach, the very breath of life was offended.
The spirits of earth took every root and branch on the table. Herbs intended
for garnish disappeared into their voluminous cloaks.
And God was angry, and She turned away from the table, as the cloth she
meant to honor all the Spirits was turned into an unruly food fight. But as
She turned, the young child Elegwa tugged at her cloak and asked the question,
"is there nothing left for me." The table was empty, all the other spirits had
been greedy. There was scarcely a crumb left, and that a sprite danced merrily
away with. Creator smiled at this youngest one, the only one choosing to be
polite at the feast. She turned to Obatala and whispered in his ear. Obatala
smiled and raised his hand for silence as Creator seemed to disappear.
"And God was tired, and wished to share her power, but you disrespected
her. What shall I do with such greedy spirits. You are fortunate that this young
one showed respect because if none had shown honor, you would have all been
destroyed." And Obatala turned to the table, drew off the cloth, and wrapped
it as a cloak around the small child Elegwa. "Now, you other spirits, because
of your greed your power is checked. Had you asked you could have used your
power at your own will. Now, before you do the smallest deed in favor of your
followers, you must call upon Elegwa, this youngest of you all for permission
to come through the Gate of the Outer World to the Gates of Earth. Only Elegwa
and I have the ear of Creator now, and I defer to the Wisdom of the Child."
And so, from that day, before humans had yet been created, the banquet
of heaven chose the smallest child to lead them and open the gate of the City.
May we always be open to that smallest child in our midst.
All hail Elegwa, Ashe', madupe Elegwa, Wonfa nyem, anye birbio, Listen,
hear and remember. All honor and respect to the Orishas.
If you have any comments or questions,
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Orisha Story copyright
© 1998
Charles Butler
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