The Pastor’s Desk

Grace and peace be with you all!

While I was on vacation we went to a museum in Murphy, NC. It was a small, but well cared for museum about the Trail of Tears and the Native Americans that lived and still live in Murphy and surrounding towns. One of my favorite exhibits was the one on Fairy Crosses, I had never seen them or heard of them before and the story captivated me.

“Even the fairies and the great smokies wept when Christ died. And the tears they spilled turned to stone and formed tiny crosses dash symbols of the crucifixion.”

That is the story the old Indians tell.

For the skeptical, the Cherokee will show you the tiny crosses to prove the story they tell a story handed down through almost 2000 years of telling. No human hand carved these crosses, which lie scattered upon the earth near here.

I first heard the story of the fairy crosses many years ago, but it was only recently that I was searching for the spot where the strange miracle occurred. A friend of mine, Lynn Gault, led me to the spot and I have 100 or more of the tiny crosses which I picked up to prove they do exist. But, unless you know what you are seeking, you probably would never notice them, for they are the color of the earth and at first glance, look like so many other pebbles. The little crosses only become significant when the story about them is told. And the story the Cherokee tell is a story that rightfully belongs in the treasury of world folklore and myth and legend.

“My people” said Arsene Thompson, “have told the story through the ages about the crosses. It is a beautiful story.” Arsene, is a Cherokee Indian preacher who plays the role of Elias, the Indian missionary, in the Cherokee Indian drama, “Unto These Hills.” Arsene’s people have always had a reverence for the supernatural and the original Cherokee attitude toward the “Great Mystery”- the Eternal - was quite simple:

The Cherokee had no temples, no shrines, no idols. The sun, the moon, and the stars - they were his Trinity. The lightning and the wind, the thunder and the rain provoked both fear and reverence. For these were only messengers of the Great Man Above. So it is not difficult to see how the Cherokee would accept the story of the crosses and how they came to be. “Yes” said Arsene “it is a strange story. And this is what the old man told me when I was a boy, when the world was young, there lived in these mountains a race of tiny people. They were spirit people like the fairies you read about now one day when these little people had gathered to dance and sing around a pool deep in the woods a spirit messenger arrived from a strange city far, far away in the land of the dawn but soon the dancing and singing stopped for the messenger brought them sad tidings the messenger told them Christ was dead. The little people were silent, then they were sad and as they listened to the story of how Christ had died on the cross they wept and their tears fell upon the earth and turned into small stones but the stones were neither round nor square each was in the form of a beautiful little cross.

Hundreds of tears fell to the earth and turned into tiny stone crosses, but the little people were so dazed and heartbroken that they did not notice what was happening. So with the joy gone from their hearts they wandered away into the forest to their homes. But around the spot where they had been dancing and singing, where they had stopped to shed their tears the ground was covered with these symbols of the death of Christ.”

“What happened to the little people” I asked “are they still here in the mountains has anyone ever seen them?”

“No one knows for sure what happened to them” said Arsene “I first heard the story when I was a boy and the old man of the tribe who told it to me said that the day after, the little people were never seen again but the old men said that on still nights you could hear them whispering along the river and that when there was a gentle breeze their sighs could be heard in the tall trees.”’

I thought the story of the Fairy Crosses was so beautiful and magical, and full of mystery. I am sure that there is a scientific reason for these little crosses, but honestly I’m ok with not knowing the science behind it. I’m happy to live into the mystery and magic of this story. As I continue to grow and learn I am also becoming more and more comfortable with allowing God to have some mystery. I’m trying to let go of some cynicism and be open to miracles. And I’m learning to be ok with the fact that I  cannot explain God. Sometimes I just have to let faith take the reigns and drop my need for control.

For a neat little story it certainly has given me much to think about.