#kahnawake

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Dozens of young people from Kahnawake, Que., stopped traffic on the Honoré Mercier Bridge on Saturday, saying they're worried Bill 96 will be a setback for the community struggling to keep the Mohawk language alive.

Quebec's newly proposed and controversial language law is expected to pass in the National Assembly this coming week.

The bill would reform several pieces of Quebec legislation, including the Charter of the French Language, touching everything from education and health to the rights of immigrants to be served in other languages.

"We do not have a lot left. We have a little land left, our language. We only have about 300 speakers compared to 85 per cent of French speakers in Quebec," said 19-year-old Teiotsatonteh Diabo, who helped organize the protest.

Diabo said Indigenous people should be exempt from sections of the law that would force them to speak French or take French courses, which are proposed at the CEGEP level.

"Not everyone can focus on French," said Diabo, who is heading to Dawson College next year.

"You need to understand that we are still in the middle of trying to save our culture and language from all the assimilation and residential schools that you [the Quebec government] put my people through," she said, adding she intends to learn the language one day.

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

#indigenous #First Nations #Bill 96 #Kahnawake #cdnpoli #canada #canadian politics #canadian news #canadian #Quebec #racism

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“Proud Iroquois Plead for Aid For First Time in All History,” Toronto Globe. February 4, 1933. Page 1.  ---- (Canadian Press Despatch) Caughnawaga, Que., Feb. 3. - "Never before in the history of America have we, the proud Iroquois Indians of Caughnawaga [Kahnawá:ke], aborigines of this continent and wards of the nation, appealed to you, brothers and sisters of Canada," begins a statement appealing for unemployment relief funds, signed by members of the Caughnawaga Relief Fund Committee, and titled "The End of the Trail." 

"We appeal for mercy and charity funds to feed and clothe our - and you own - destitute people residing on our reserve,” the statement continues. "Advertising experts, leaders in their field, employ pictures of our people in various phases of life as symbols of endurance. This is logical; but even we, with our traditional powers of endurance, can no longer endure without your help the merciless exactions of the economic depression.   

"We have come to the end of the long quagmire trail. Exhausted in body and soul, gasping for breath, we stand collapsing at the brink of the great divide. Are you going to stand by and watch us and our children fall into the abyss of lost hope? Or will you, like good palefaces, extend a helping hand to our groping people.”

The appeal is nationwide, and is endorsed by several prominent Montrealers, a member of the Relief Committee said. About $25,000 is needed to tide over 2,700 families who, it is contended, are unable to live on relief extended by the Department of Indian Affairs.

[AL: Some savvy rhetoric from the Kahnawá:ke relief committee, deploying the racist images of their people and cliched language to garner sympathy for a community hard hit by the Depression, as the ‘skywalkers’ who worked construction were thrown out of work.]

#kahnawake #caughnawaga #mohawks of kahnawá:ke #montreal #appeal for assistance #unemployment relief #poverty relief #unemployment #first nations #indigenous people #indigenous history #department of indian affairs #great depression in canada #pressures of the great depression #capitalism in crisis #settler colonialism in canada

[barbarapicci]

#Streetart by #YUDA @yuda_gn in #Kahnawake, Canada More info at: https://barbarapicci.com/2023/01/18/streetart-yuda-kahnawake-canada/ #streetartKahnawake #streetartCanada #Canadastreetart #art #graffiti #murals #murales #urbanart #muralism #muralismo #streetarteverywhere #instastreetart #streetartphotography #streetartpics #streetartaddicted #streetartlover #igersstreetart #graffitiart #arteurbana #wallart #spraypaint #spraypaintart #contemporaryart #artecontemporanea https://www.instagram.com/p/CnmPDFUofnS/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#streetart #yuda #kahnawake #streetartkahnawake #streetartcanada #canadastreetart #art #graffiti #murals #murales #urbanart #muralism #muralismo #streetarteverywhere #instastreetart #streetartphotography #streetartpics #streetartaddicted #streetartlover #igersstreetart #graffitiart #arteurbana #wallart #spraypaint #spraypaintart #contemporaryart #artecontemporanea

[iuicmontreal]

Heading to the #kahnawake #powwow. Looking out for our #firstnations brothers and sisters.

#Gad #weloveourpeople

#kahnawake #powwow #gad

[fieldtomatoes]

Watching my way through Knowledge Network documentaries: "Spudwrench: Kahnawake Man" (1997)

dir. Alanis Obomsawin | 58m | also available in full above!

"This documentary by acclaimed filmmaker Alanis Obomsawin introduces us to Randy Horne, a high steel worker from the Mohawk community of Kahnawake, near Montreal. As a defender of his people's culture and traditions, he was known as "Spudwrench" during the 1990 Oka crisis. Offering a unique look behind the barricades at one man's impassioned defense of sacred territory, the film is both a portrait of Horne and the generations of daring Mohawk construction workers that have preceded him."

#doc recs #if you don't know about the mohawk ironworkers then I *really* recommend this film #but be warned that there's discussion of the type of workplace injury/death that occurs when working on high-rises #spudwrench: kahnawake man #documentaries

[taxioxfordchateauguay]

Taxi Oxford Chateauguay

We are happy to be the oldest Taxi Company in the region of Chateauguay, Mercier, Lery, Kahnawake and surrounding areas. We take pride in serving you. Not only we provide you with a Taxi service, we also provide; car boost, Unlock doors (cars), parcel delivery and reservation for the airport. We hope we will have the honor of serving you!

Contact us:

255 Boulevard d'Anjou Suite 209, Châteauguay, Quebec  J6J 2R4

[phone]

[email protected]

#Chateauguay Taxi #Chateauguay Taxi service #Oxford Taxi #Mercier Taxi #Mercier Taxi service #Lery Taxi #Lery Taxi service #Kahnawake Taxi #Kahnawake Taxi service #taxi oxford chateauguay

[caniscryptid]

Kanyen'kehà:ka (Mohawk) protestors face off with the Canadian military during the Oka Crisis, which began over expansion of a golf course into Mohawk territory.

Kahnawake Reserve, Quebec, 1990

#canada #quebec #photography

[interwinlink]

gioi-thieu-chung-ve-nha-cai-ca-cuoc-interwin

#Interwin hoạt động hợp pháp và được Isle of Man và Kahnawake thuộc Canada cấp quyền và quản lý. Tổ chức này sẽ giám sát nghiêm ngặt #quản lý chặt chẽ hết các hoạt động tại nhà cái để đảm bảo quyền lợi cho người chơi. Nhà cái luôn muốn người chơi trong cổng game của mình đ #nhiều người muốn giới thiệu Interwin nên mọi người yên tâm. #Nguồn bài viết : http://interwinlink.com/gioi-thieu-interwin #interwinlink #nha_cai_INTERWIN #nha_cai #casino #gioithieuinterwin

[27-moons]

DEFEND THE TERRITORY ZINE PDF

Warrior Publications, Spring 2014

Introduction

Communities that are effective in carrying out resistance will inevitably face some form of state repression, most often carried out by police forces. This text is intended as a review of tactics and techniques that have been used in countering police assaults on crowds and communities.

For police, these types of assaults are referred to as “public order” or “crowd control” operations. Communities targeted by such operations may face riot cops as well as armed tactical units, dog teams, armoured vehicles, the use of chemical agents and baton charges.

Native peoples in Canada have seen the deployment of police crowd control units on numerous occasions since the 1980s. Some notable examples include Listiguj/Restigouche in 1981, Kahnawake 1988, Kanesatake and Kahnawake 1990, Ipperwash 1995, Six Nations 2006, Barriere Lake 2008 and 2012, and most recently in Rexton, New Brunswick, in October 2013.

The most common target for police crowd control operations against Native peoples are blockades. This is because the blockade is highly effective as a form of direct action taken by communities defending their land and people.

While Native peoples in North America have a recent history of armed resistance (including Wounded Knee 1973, Oka 1990, and Ts'Peten 1995), most communities do not typically engage in such actions. Most, however, do have the capability of carrying out blockades and other similar types of low-level direct actions. As corporations and government continue to relentlessly exploit and destroy the natural world, it is highly likely that such actions will increase in frequency in the future as communities act to defend themselves and their land.

#indigenous resistance #zine

[random-brushstrokes]

Marc-Aurèle de Foy Suzor-Coté - Onontaha (1915)

The subject of this painting is Onontaha, a young Haudenosaunee woman from Bécancour, near Quebec City. Formal portraits such as this were often commissioned by the sitter or a family member; in this case, however, it is likely that Onontaha was hired by the artist to model for the work. The painting had been commissioned by Montreal architect J. Omer Marchand to fit a Spanish-renaissance style frame that still accompanies the work, which he had recently purchased. Suzor-Coté was tasked with finding an appropriate subject to match the historical frame. The artist is known to have hired female models from Montreal or Kahnawake for other works in his pursuit to represent the culture and daily life of the Arthabaska region, both past and present. He did so through depictions of archetypal “Canadian” figures such as the “old pioneer” or Maria Chapdelaine, and Onontaha as an Indigenous women would have fit this profile. (source)

#Marc-Aurèle de Foy Suzor-Coté #canadian art #portrait #1910s

[pearwaldorf]

cw: the state of things, Gaza protests, Israel, fascism

Look. It's not like I was unaware the US has been hurtling towards fascism since before the Trump administration, but it's still a hell of a thing to see footage of jackbooted thugs march on a university because students think it's wrong for the country they live in and the school they pay to attend to support genocide*.

My parents are Chinese immigrants who grew up under a dictatorial regime. They did some extreme(ly dangerous) stuff to leave the country. What happened in Tiananmen Square is my earliest political memory. And looking at pictures last night reminded me of it.

Whether it is true or not, I was told Things Like This don't happen here. And I am angry at the betrayal of that belief, on my parents' behalf. Certainly my life is still better than it would have been in China. But I do not think it is too much to ask that we do better than the Chinese government.

I am absolutely disgusted by how craven the Biden administration has been in its messaging around all of this. If Israel itself has said the hostages don't matter and they're going to invade Rafah regardless, the very least the administration can do is acknowledge this is genocidal behavior.

Would it be worse under a second Trump term? Probably. But it's not like it will be good under Biden, because the apparatus of the state, beyond political ideology, does not give a shit about Palestine.

I don't want to say that young people protesting have less to lose, because that's incorrect. But being older usually means you have obligations to other people than yourself (spouses, children, pets, parents). And all those people are affected if something happens to you. So I'm happy to keep buying matches and tinder for The Kids, because they have the energy, time, and conviction to change the world.

--

* I would also like to note there are plenty of colleges and universities that are not cracking down on their protesting students and are in fact complying with their demands, like Brown. I am also deeply touched by the declaration from the Kahnawake (Mohawk) nation that the protesters at McGill University are welcome on their land.

#pear text #i feel like i have to apologize to all the dudes at protests #who had a 'free palestine' sign regardless of what the protest was about #you were annoying #but you were also correct

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“PROTEST BLOCKING OF INDIAN PATHMAY,” Montreal Star. January 13, 1930. Page 3. ---- Reservation Resident Claims Right to Use Path Near Church ---- TO SETTLE ACTION ---- Court Adjourns Case For Two Days to Permit Settlement ---- Further details in the case of Louis Beauvais, et al., on the part of the Iroquois Reservation vs. Rev, O. Lacoutre, and Hon. E. Lapointe, Minister of Justice were argued before Mr. Justice Archer in the Superior Court this morning. The action was remanded for two days to allow both parties to settle the matter out of court.

The plaintiffs claim in their declaration that the Iroquois Indians of the Caughnawaga Reserve of which they are Chief Councillor and Councillors respectively, has been from time to time memorial in possession under the Crown of a tract of land known as the "Caughnawaga Indian Reserve" comprising the village and common of Caughnawaga,

CLAIM RIGHT OF WAY. Within the Reserve is situated a pathway which traverses the Reserve in that section between the Caughnawaga Catholic Church and the St. Lawrence River. This pathway is right-of-way and common ground, the declaration says. 

During the months of June and July, 1925, the defendant illegally and in violation of the rights of the Caughnawaga Indians, erected an iron fence across the pathway in the neighborhood of the church, it is complained. In addition, in August, 1925, the defendant dug an excavation across the pathway, thus rendering passage impossible. In the same month, a stone wall was built across this pathway, after a previous wall had been destroyed. 

WITHOUT PERMISSION The plaintiffs claim that the construction thus carried on is without permission and contrary to the specific instructions of the Department of Indian Affairs of the Government of Canada. It is also stated that the defendant has neglected and refused to fill the excavation and remove the fence and wall, The consent of the Department of Indian Affairs was obtained for this action, they said.

In defence, a general denial was offered, in which it was stated that the section known as the Caughnawaga Reserve was ceded to the Jesuit Society by the King of France, and part of this ground was used for the erection of a Catholic Church, the balance remaining as church property.

#montreal #supreme court of quebec #kahnawake #caughnawaga #common ground #mohawks of kahnawá:ke #settler colonialism in canada #settler colonialism #oka #anti-indigenous racism #canadian history #indigenous people #indigenous rights #indigenous history #first nations #great depression in canada #roman catholic church #christianity in canada

[uncannysam]

PARTIES: @amonstrousdream @uncannysam TIMING: Mid-December SUMMARY: Leila drops by Sam's place for a snack, but comes to find more than she bargained for. WARNINGS: None!

She hadn’t meant to go so long without feeding on the dreams of some unsuspecting victim within Wicked’s Rest. But with all of the chaos that previous months had brought, whipping up nightmares had been the last thing on Leila’s mind. There were projects to work on, people to take care of, elder vampires to kill, and a death-day anniversary to ignore. With all of it combined, it took the waking and dreaming hours of her life. Meals became few and far between. Finally, it had been too much. She needed a dream, and she needed it immediately. 

And so, the mare disappeared into that in-between space of the astral and fluttered about the town, hunting for sweet dreams to sour. The town, slowly emerging from the gooey hellscape of autumn, was slowly taking on a more saccharine feel again. Naturally darkened dreams of stress and dread were starting to grow brighter. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

After what felt like ages, Leila found a bright spot of dreaming that her hunger would not let her pass up. She slipped through the keyhole, into the darkened room on the soft edges of shadow and moonlight, following the smell of dreams until she found her little dreamer, tucked away in bed. A feather-light hand rested against their arm to ensure they stayed asleep before the mare snuck her way into their dream.

__

Sam couldn’t go any longer without sleeping, but she knew if she slept, her gift of sight would go away. It seemed to do that, when her body was actually well rested. But she couldn’t stay up another minute, especially considering she had almost walked out in front of a car today coming back home from the store. So she reluctantly shut off the lights, crawled in the bed with Scout at her feet, and as soon as her head hit the pillow, drifted off into a deep slumber. One she had at least hoped would be restful, if she had to endure it.

Settling in and shifting through the REM stages of sleep, Sam had finally found herself in a peaceful environment. One that she had felt safe and comfortable in. It was full of familiar faces of friends and family. She was back home in Kahnawake. Everything looked familiar, at least to what her childhood memories were, but this time she was grown. In fact, it was as if she had resided there. Wicked’s Rest was a thing of the past, and she had reopened her comic book shop.

Hearing the bell alert her to the presence of someone, Sam had walked out from the back, “Can I help you? Is there something you’re looking for?” Everything seemed like another day at Escape Your Fate, except Scout seemed to be missing, which had felt off for some reason.

—

It had taken the nightmare an awful long time to realize what feeding on dreams was akin to. Centuries of floating on the periphery of that one divine moment on the edge of sleep where dreams were all that were and ever had been had shown her that dreams- most dreams, all dreams- were simply life in disguise. Nightmares fed on that. The bit of life and humanity that made all people dream, to replace the life and dreams that had been stolen from them. Had she not been so hungry, Leila might have been disgusted by herself. By interrupting the remembrance of life and happiness in the place in-between. 

But monsters had a desire to live, too. 

Unseen, unknown, the mare stalked about, looking at the sweet dream that seemed to be playing out in the stranger’s mind. A bell jingling merrily. Comic books lined the walls as she flitted down the aisles, a bit of breeze. The tang of uncertainty caught her off guard. The dreamer had noted something. Something missing. A string she could pull, perhaps. Some memory she could unravel? Ah… An idea flickered in Leila’s mind, and the mare willed the sound of footsteps in the back of the store. A voice. A thud. Maybe there was something here she could work with? 

___

Hearing the sound of footsteps, Sam narrowed her eyes and looked back. It wasn’t Scout. He was right next to her and those footsteps were clunky, like boots. Turning her attention back on the person in the store, Sam noticed a stranger she had never seen before. But quickly the voice; an all too familiar voice. One she had heard almost every day of her life since coming to Wicked’s Rest peaked her interest once more. Zach. The part of her heart that had been missing for months now, but he was alive? Of course he was! Sam didn’t know she was dreaming. To her, this was life, but the thud, for whatever reason, had sent a wave of anxiety shooting through her body, and without hesitating, she was to her feet and running towards the back of the store in the blink of an eye.

Breaking the threshold of the doorway, Sam hit the brakes when suddenly, she was no longer in the comic bookstore, but standing in a dark alleyway that appeared empty at first, until she had squinted to take a closer look; her eyesight failing her in the moment. As she inched closer, she couldn’t help but remain cautious. She could have sworn, she was just in the comic book store. And where was Scout? So badly she wanted to shout out his name, but there was a lingering fear sitting inside that told her to remain quiet.

___

Oh… oh, she’d found the thread to pull. 

Whoever the owner of the voice that filled memory after memory in this girl’s mind was, there was an awful lot there. All of it dark. Something in Leila’s chest tugged her forward, wanting to know what it was in this particular thread of memory she’d plucked up and begun to weave back into the story it once was. 

The safety of that shop was easily transformed into something more sinister. Whoever Zach was, nothing good happened to him here, in the damp of a dark alley. She wove the scene together quickly, continuing to pull along at that thread as if it were her personal, unending ball of yarn. She created shadows there, just out of sight of the girl. Enough to draw her forward, enough to pull her along and create the suspense that would satiate her appetite. Sam… Sammy… Leila used that voice again, calling out like a mockingbird. The uncertainty was a start. The strange, tickling warmth that filled her chest with every feeding urged the mare to create terror rather than mere uncomfortableness. The problem was that despite her hunger, despite that instinct, she was curious. She wanted to know what happened. Wanted to see for herself. 

Sammy, where are you… 

___

Sam lingered in her spot in the alley. Fear had engulfed her entire body, and she stood frozen. But Zach was calling for her. Calling her name, looking for her like she had been looking for him. She had to move forward. She had to go find him. She couldn’t leave him. The way the guilt was swelling up in her small form made her heart seem to shatter for unknown reasons thanks to the dream she was currently lost in. Not because she could actually, in that moment, remember the exact events and the way everything went down.

With a quivering breath and her heart pounding so much faster than it had been both in the dream and in her waking life, Sam took one step forward, followed by another and another, letting out a soft whisper, “Z-Zach…” If there was something lurking in the shadows, she didn’t want to awaken it to her presence. Her mind seemed to run stories from her childhood on repeat; tales of warnings from the various creatures that roamed the Earth when her ancestors were still a part of the living world, “Zach, I’m here…where are you?”

Sam continued to step cautiously as her narrowed eyes scanned the area looking for him, but so far nothing. She just seemed to move deeper and deeper into the alley and the darkness and impending certainty of doom that it held hoping she would eventually run into him.

___

There was a rush that came with the fear of a dreamer. It was heady, utterly intoxicating- the first time she’d experienced it, the mare hadn’t known what to make of it. But as existence had stretched on and on, Leila had finally been able to pinpoint it. The racing pulse and sharp intakes of breath were so harsh that they almost replaced what was lacking in the mare. It was horrible, yes. But it was necessary. Without that little act of thievery, she feared she’d dissipate into nothingness. 

It was easy to pull the threads together now. The further into the girl's memories that she played, the more elements Leila could call to light. The boy’s- Zach’s- voice, calling out for her dreamer. Letting it go from whispered calmness to hissed fear as Sam’s fear grew. Shadows… she needed to shape the shadows. With a keen eye for detail, she pulled a form from the recesses of the girl’s mind as one might pluck a pattern from a rack. What Leila wasn’t ready for was how much it startled her to see the form take shape. Feminine. Small. A heap of a boy at their feet. Who was this that she’d created from a memory? And why was this body discarded like abandoned prey, eyes wide and empty…?

The voice morphed from the fearful Zach’s to something other. Some cacophony of terrible voices, all crying out at once from this strange figure’s mouth. sam. Sam. SAM. SAM. 

___

Sam didn’t want to be the coward she feared she’d forever feel like. She wanted to be brave. She wanted to find Zach. To save her friend. To be the hero she knew lived inside her. Like the ones from her comic books. Even the anti-hero like Maya Lopez. She just wanted to be brave. But the closer she went towards him, the more afraid she became. The more she wanted to draw back and retreat, until…

Seeing the figure form of the woman who had taken Zach and made him her meal, along with blurry shadows of those surrounding a clear image of his deceased body laying at their feet had left her frozen in fear. But this time, she had nowhere to hide. All Sam could do was look on helplessly at not being able to save her friend once again. And the voices…her name…shrill and loud. So loud that she tried to cover her ears, but it did no good. Instead, Sam’s heart was beating fiercely. So hard that it hurt. So hard that she felt like she couldn’t breathe anymore.

Gasping for air, she dropped to her knees clawing at her throat, until her eyes shot open and saw nothing but darkness surrounding her as she tried to adjust to the lack of light, except for that peeking in from the sides of her blinds and curtains. But as she scanned the room, she quickly caught sight of a shadowing figure near her, and without any control let out a blood curdling scream, praying Scout would react, but remembering he was staying with her parents tonight.

Scrambling from the sheets, Sam nearly fell out of the bed and rushed over to find the lightswitch on the wall hoping that once the light was on, it would kill whatever shadow monster lurked in her room and probably moreso in her mind.

___

The dream was enough. More than enough, really- there was so much fear welling up within the poor girl who had been unfortunate enough to become her meal for the evening. Usually, there came a point where the guilt seeped in. Usually, the realization of what Leila was doing to the poor person who was simply trying to get some rest was enough to send her back into the astral. That feeling was what made it easier to weave together dreams in the minds of those who, in some way, deserved it. 

But this time, Leila couldn’t leave. She couldn’t bring herself to flutter away to safety, a wisp of smoke and shadow. Instead, she needed to watch. Needed to figure out what had happened, extract as much detail as she possibly could before departing. The girl had suffered, had lost this person whose memory remained like a scar in her mind. She tried to memorize every inch of the figure she’d plucked from the dreamer’s memory. Time, however, was running short. She could feel the poor dreamer’s heartbeat rocketing. 

Mere seconds before Sam’s eyes snapped open, Leila was fleeing through the astral, through the crack in the keyhole of the door. What she had seen in the dream lurked in her mind, an echo reverberating over and over and over… It left her curious. Yes, she’d caused some amount of pain here, forcing the young woman to relive the moment in her dreams, but… Perhaps, she could help her. Somehow. 

Maybe she could help this dreamer fight the things that remained inside her head.

#para: leila #para: nightmare revisited #amonstrousdream #wickedswriting

[importantwomensbirthdays]

Mary Two-Axe Earley

Mary Two-Axe Earley was born in 1911 in Kahnawake, Quebec. For twenty years, Earley campaigned against a discriminatory provision in Canada's Indian Act that allowed indigenous men, but not indigenous women, to retain their official Indian status when they married non-natives. She founded Equal Rights for Indian Women, and was a founding member of the Québec Native Women's Association. Earley's efforts resulted in the passage of Bill C-31, an amendment to the Indian Act that created a process for reinstatement of women who had lost their status due to marriage.

Mary Two-Axe Earley died in 1996 at the age of 84.

#aboriginal women #native women #indigenous women #canada #canadian #history #Youtube

[lord-here-i-am]

Hl. Katharina (Kateri) Tekakwitha

Gefeiert Am 17. April

Hl. Katharina (Kateri) Tekakwitha Büßerin * 1656 in Ossernenon - dem heutigen Auriesville im Bundesstaat New York in den USA † 17. April 1680 in Caughnawaga / Kahnawake in Kanada

Kateri, Indianerin aus dem Irokesenstamm der Mohawks, wurde nach dem frühen Tod ihrer Eltern von Verwandten erzogen. Sie lehnte mehrfach eine Heirat ab und gelobte Jungfräulichkeit. Als 20-jährige wurde sie von einem Jesuitenpater getauft und wurde dadurch sehr schweren Anfeindungen ausgesetzt. Sie schloss sich einer Missionsstation der Jesuiten bei Montreal an. Dort führte sie ein Leben der Buße und des Gebets. Nach ihrem Tod ereigneten sich Wunder und Heilungen. Ihre Gebeine sind im Reservat der Mohawk-Indianer in Caughnawaga aufbewahrt. Die "Lilie der Mohawks" war die erste Indianerin, die selig gesprochen wurde. Papst Benedikt XVI. sprach sie im Oktober 2012 heilig.

#saints #god #gott #christ #saint of the day #roman catholic #religion #jesus #lord here I am #christianity #christentum #faith #glaube #holy #catholic #römisch katholisch #betrachtung #römisch katholische kirche #Indianer #Indianerin #Irokesenstamm #usa

[catholic-saint-tournament]

saint Kateri Tekakwitha of kahnawake please please please?

Another vote added to our dear Kateri!!!!

#st kateri tekakwitha #catholic saint tournament