Chapter Ten #2
Marge’s new grandchild had arrived a few weeks ago, just in time for the regional Welcome Baby to Country ceremony, where all the Aboriginal babies born recently would be welcomed by one of their nation’s Elders.
Beth had felt so honoured to be invited, which was why she’d asked if she could bring Ellie—she wouldn’t feel brave enough arriving at a big event like this on her own.
Beth and Ellie trekked down Brockman Street towards the town’s green space and amphitheatre, and it seemed as if half the town was heading in the same direction.
‘Looks like it’s going to be quite the merry occasion,’ Ellie noted.
When they reached the park, they saw a large crowd had already gathered.
Some people sat in camping chairs while others lounged on picnic blankets, but everyone was positioned to face the stage in the permanent amphitheatre.
While they waited for the event to start, adults called out to friends, children darted between groups and over blankets, and all the while, magpies warbled and the nearby river whispered. Beth didn’t know where to look.
‘There she is.’ Ellie pointed across the crowd.
Beth took her word for it. ‘I’ll follow you.’
Marge offered a warm welcome when they reached the far side of the green. ‘There you are! So glad you both could make it! Come, sit. It’ll be starting soon.’
Once Beth and Ellie had settled onto the extra-large picnic blanket, Marge introduced her family. ‘This is my daughter, Jacinta, and her partner, Lenny.’
Beth plastered on a smile and waved hello, determined to make an effort.
‘Jedda’s asleep,’ Marge explained, pointing to the bulging baby sling Jacinta wore on her front. ‘But I’m sure she’ll wake up soon. And you know Tom, of course.’
A hush settled over the crowd then, and Marge promised to introduce them to the rest of her mob after the ceremony.
An Elder made his way onto the stage and stopped in front of the microphone. Looking out at everyone, he waited to ensure he had their attention, then began, his voice echoing from the speakers, his tone earthy and warm.
‘Kaya, noonakoort. Wandju, nidja Noongar Boodja. Hello, everyone. Welcome to Noongar Country. Nguny djurapin, nguny koort djurpin wanganiny noonakoort. We are happy and our hearts are happy to be speaking with you all.’
Little Jedda squawked in response, making everyone around her grin.
‘We are gathered here,’ continued the Elder, ‘to celebrate the newest members of our community. Little Ones, today, surrounded by your moort, your family, you will connect to culture and community. We welcome you to Country so that you may always have a sense of identity and know where you belong.’
The Elder’s words pierced Beth’s soul, because identity and belonging were two things she’d give anything to possess. She glanced over at Jedda. Could there be more perfect gifts to bestow on a child?
The ceremony continued, with local children—some of them siblings and cousins to those being formally welcomed—performing a traditional dance as someone played the didgeridoo.
Following that, a fire was lit and leaves were laid over it until they were smoking.
Then it was time for the Little Ones to play their part.
One by one, they were called up, along with their caregivers, and the smoke from the leaves wafted over them—cleansing them and warding off bad spirits, Marge explained—before they were presented to the Elder.
He rubbed white ash over each child, bonding them to their Boodja, then gifted them with a kangaroo skin headband, decorated by a local artist, and a possum skin cloak, as tangible reminders of their heritage.
At only a week old, baby Jedda was completely unaware of the significance of the occasion, but her family would no doubt share with her many times the tale of the day she was welcomed by her mob and blessed by their Elder.
Witnessing each successive blessing made Beth weepy. She didn’t even know Jedda—or any other baby being welcomed—yet her heart was truly happy for them. Happy that they’d grow up with a strong support system around them. That they’d know who they were and where they came from.
Not everyone was honoured with such knowledge.
Once the twenty babies had been formally welcomed, the crowd offered their congratulations, applauding the Little Ones as they were taken back to their loved ones.
Smiling proudly, Jacinta and Lenny brought Jedda back to the group and everyone marvelled at how cute she looked, with her tiny headband and cloak.
Beth and Ellie held back, letting those closest to Jacinta and Lenny be the first to offer their well wishes, but the next thing Beth knew, Marge was waving her and Ellie over. She was a proud granny wanting to show off her first grandchild.
‘Isn’t she the cutest?’
At that moment, Jedda yawned in Jacinta’s arms, making Beth grin. She’d never seen a baby this close up before.
‘Aww,’ Ellie gushed, leaning in for a closer look. ‘She’s just divine. Congratulations, everyone!’
Jacinta and Lenny smiled their thanks and Marge beamed proudly.
‘She really is,’ Beth added as she examined Jedda’s features—her button nose, her pouty lips, the lashes that fanned her cheeks.
She was tiny and so vulnerable, and deserved all the love and support she was being showered with today.
Didn’t every child deserve that? How could any mother look down at their baby and not want to give them the world?
To instil in them the confidence that came with being sure of who you were, of knowing that you had a place in the world?
Emotion clogged Beth’s throat and burned her eyes. Why had her mother kept so much from her? Why had she never spoken of Beth’s father or his family? And for god’s sake, why had she lied about where Beth had been born?
Since her meltdown following receipt of that devastating email from South Australia, Beth had given up on her search for answers.
The only solution she could come up with was to apply to every state’s registry, one at a time, until she learned the truth, except she wasn’t certain she could bear the emotional toll of such a task.
She just had to face the fact that, unlike baby Jedda, she might never know where she came from or where she truly belonged.
Suddenly, it was all too much.
‘I’m sorry. I … I need to go.’ She threw an apologetic look at Marge.
‘You okay, love?’
‘Yeah, I just … need to go.’
‘Beth?’ Ellie called after her, but she was already on the move.
She needed space, needed a moment to think.
Because, god, it was horrible, feeling this way about her own mother, the one person she’d always believed she could count on.
The one person who should’ve loved and supported her and ensured she knew who she was and where she came from.
Instead, Rosie had left her feeling lost and confused and alone.
And she’d taken her secrets to the grave, even though she’d had ample time to confess everything.
And, for that, Beth would never forgive her.