A Journey into America’s Ancient Memory
Our Academy of Light team travels regularly into the challenges of our world to help clear problematic areas and create energetic shifts to assist humanity to be more hopeful. We also journey into the past to reclaim memories long forgotten. Our adventures are incredibly meaningful. We’d like to share this one with you…
A Story Carried Through Smoke and Time
When our team set the intention to journey back to “America’s first Thanksgiving,” we expected perhaps a glimpse of a familiar story: settlers and Native people sharing a feast in gratitude. Instead, what unfolded was a profound remembrance — one that stretched far beyond the textbook pages, deep into the energetic memory of this land and the people who walked it long before. Etched into the land itself, carried through smoke and time, a memory far more intimate and heartfelt than the simplified tale we’re taught.
The Council Fire
The vision emerged through the smoke of a small ceremonial fire glowing softly in the dusk, a gathering place of Indigenous elders deep in contemplation. A circle of wise, grounded, leaders who were speaking quietly as they considered what to do about the newcomers they called “the visitors.”
They spoke about these visitors who were not thriving. These weary settlers had recently arrived on great wooden ships only to find themselves unprepared for the land they now occupied.
These settlers were struggling more than they could have imagined. They had built makeshift shelters along a marshy coast, perhaps near what is now Jamestown. They did not understand the land, the seasons, or the foods that could sustain them. They clung to their ships, to makeshift dwellings, to foreign knowledge that did not work on this new soil. Many were sick, starving, and scared.
A Council Divided
Inside the council, a divide formed. The warriors urged caution. “They do not belong here,” they argued, remembering that visitors do not always come with honorable intentions.
But the women — the female elders — felt something different. One of our team recognized herself among them, a quiet but firm voice of compassion. “We must help them,” she insisted, because helping was part of who they were. Their ethics, their culture, their very identity was rooted in generosity. “We gave because it was right,” she recalled. “We could not deny our truth.”
Ultimately, caution and compassion found a balance, and the first offering was born. The decision to help was made with both kindness and discernment.
The True First Offering
The first Thanksgiving, it seems, was not a shared feast at a long table we’ve pictured in paintings. It was an act of mercy.
Indigenous families quietly carried grains, corn, blankets, and whatever they could spare to the desperate settler’s fragile encampment. They brought a genuine offering of survival, shared as one would help a struggling neighbor. They offered knowledge of the land, teaching the visitors which plants were safe, how to prepare food from the earth, and how to survive the coming winter.
Gratitude flowed easily in those early encounters. Bonds were formed. Friendships bloomed that felt honest and hopeful.
When Trust Was Broken
But the harmony did not last. A later wave of settlers arrived with a different energy — one of arrogance, entitlement, and the authority of kings from across the great ocean with ambitions of conquest. They disrupted everything.
These new arrivals betrayed the trust of both the first wave of settlers who had begun to live cooperatively with the original inhabitants, and the Indigenous people who had helped them survive.
The warmth of the early relationships darkened into distrust and heartbreak. Stories of this betrayal were passed down by firelight for generations. Stories of kindness met with deception, of open hearts wounded by greed. This betrayal planted the seeds of distrust that would ripple through generations. The warriors remembered. The land remembered.
A Living Message for Today
Despite the sadness in witnessing these memories, a clear truth emerged: The original Thanksgiving was not a celebration. It was an act of mercy.
It was the heart of a people choosing to give, even knowing they might not be understood or honored. It was a moment of humanity in a world already shifting toward conflict. As we reflected during the journey, “We gave from our hearts. Some were grateful. Others betrayed.”
And yet, even through sorrow, the elders whispered one final reminder, just as true today as it was then: Remember who you are. And when in doubt — follow the truth in your heart.
Closing Reflection
As we pause to give thanks today, perhaps the truest way to honor that first quiet offering is to embody its spirit. Kindness without expectation. Generosity with discernment. Compassion grounded in wisdom. The elders in our journey reminded us that even when history is complex, the heart knows the way. May we carry forward the ancient echo of that first gesture — the simple act of helping another soul survive the winter. And may we remember that gratitude is not a holiday; it is a frequency that lights the path ahead.
May your heart be blessed with truth, love, and gratitude,
Lois & Team
Coming soon: PART 2 — Do What Is True in Your Heart