The Gift: A Yule Story
Author: Lady Abigail
Living with my Great Grandmother was what I consider one of the
greatest blessings of my life. She was beautiful in spirit and heart. Her wisdom
was filled with understanding and an insight that allowed her to see within
one's very soul. She blessed me with not only the gift of magick, but also the
wisdom to seek out the truth and see beyond what others imagine and the facade
we wear to disguise who we truly are.
It was early in December, the air
cold and clear. I didn’t seem to notice the cold as I walked with my Great
Grandmother that early morning. We walked along the path that took us to the
dirt road that would lead us into town. The sun was shining brightly in the deep
blue sky and seemed to make the world sparkle as it melted off the frost from
the morning.
I was so excited; there were few things that my Great
Grandmother ever needed to buy, so going into town was almost like an adventure.
It was nearly the holidays and brightly colored street decorations had been
placed on the streetlights. The aromas from each shop seemed to call my
attention and add to my excitement.
I loved going into this little Ozark
town, for to me, it was like a great city. I loved the noise and how the man
behind the counter always gave me candy while he filled my Great
Grandmother's order. I liked watching the people as they rushed to whatever
seemed to be of great importance. It had always held such wonder for me, that
was, until this day.
Walking down the street toward the corner grocery
store, I noticed that some people changed sides of the street as we began to
walk toward them. Not such a big deal, just strange, since they crossed right
back as soon as we passed.
Then I noticed that people left when we
entered stores. Again, not so strange, just that they seemed to stand barely
outside the door, looking in at us.
I didn’t think much of it; just felt
it was a bit peculiar.
I ran to open the big glass door so I could be
the one who made the bell ring as we went in. The store was filled with people
picking up goodies for the holidays and chatting with each other.
As we
walked toward the counter, the store became strangely quite. I could hear the
bell ringing as people left the shop.
I noticed one young lady, who was
bundled in a big heavy coat, smiling at my Great Grandmother and me as we walked
along. I think she may have even winked at me. Then she turned and walked out of
the store without saying a word.
As my Great Grandmother placed her order
with the man behind the counter, I noticed a little boy about my age standing at
the shelf of toys. I was always excited to see other children, not to mention
the toys. I slowly walked over to where he was standing and timidly said,
“Hello.”
He turned and looked at me, and with the honesty that only
children seem to have, said, “I can’t talk to you; you're wicked. My mother said
not to talk to you or I would get whipped.”
With that, he turned and ran
toward the door.
‘Wicked, ’ that was only a term used for bad people. Not
me. How was talking to me, a little girl, going be wicked. I was only five years
old at the time.
I ran back to my Great Grandmother and grabbed tight to
her skirt. She looked down at me and as if to share the pain I was now feeling.
She picked me up and gave me a hug as she softly wiped away my tears and
said, “My little one; you are not wicked. Wicked, is only in the minds of those
that have hearts of stone. Your heart is good and filled with wonder. But some
people are just too blind to see.”
Soon, the man behind the counter
handed my Great Grandmother her bags and we began to walk from the store. Again
people turned or walked away as we passed. This time, I didn’t like it. This
time, each turned face, each back, and each step away gave me pain like when
that little boy called me wicked.
I wanted to run, I wanted to leave
that store, that place, and never go back.
As we walked back toward
home, I hurt. The little town I loved had changed. It was no longer filled with
wonder and excitement. Now it was a place filled with faceless, spiteful people
that pointed and whispered behind your back saying mean and hurtful things. Even
the day, so bright and sunny before, now seemed terribly cold.
As we
walked, my Great Grandmother explained to me that fear was the reason some
people acted so full of hate. They were afraid of what they didn’t understand.
They feared things different than what they had learned. They were so afraid,
that fear would not allow them to accept those unlike themselves. To accept
anything beyond what they believed, they were afraid, would somehow make them
weak. They had been raised in believing that anything different was wicked and
bad.
It was up to me how to accept these people. If I allowed their fear
and hate to get into my spirit, then I accepted what they believed and made it
true. But if I knew it was only foolish fear, then I could forgive them. That
seemed impossible to me.
It became dreadfully cold, as night began to
fall. Frost was starting to climb up the windowpanes in my Great
Grandmother's small kitchen. I watched carefully, trying to see the snow
fairies as they painted their designs of feathers and snowflakes on the glass.
The night was so black that I could not see past my own reflection in the
window.
It was not yet truly winter; we had not called unto the God of
Winter or asked the spirits of the longest night to call back the sun. Yet,
winter was here and I could hear him howling through the trees.
My Great
Grandmother, holding an armload of firewood, called me to help her close the
kitchen door. The wind was now spitting bits of snow and rain, blowing even
harder against the house. Putting down the wood, she said we should be ready for
company that night.
I could not even guess who would be coming,
especially on a night such as this, but I knew if my Great Grandmother said
someone was coming, it was true.
Before long, ice was starting to form
and hang from the eaves of the house. It was covering everything in heavy
layers, making the world look like it was made of glass. I could hear tree limbs
cracking and breaking as the ice thickened and they gave way to hammering winds.
My Great Grandmother and I made ready the extra room. She cleaned as I
placed fresh water on the nightstand. We pulled the handmade quilts from the big
trunk and carried in the coal pot to warm the room.
It was getting very
late, and I began to drift off to sleep in the pile of blankets my Great
Grandmother had placed on the floor next to the big stone fireplace. But I
wasn’t rushed off to bed since the storm was too loud to allow sleep. I could
hear my Grand Grandmother in the kitchen as she mixed and readied for the
guest.
I don’t know how long I had been asleep when a thunderous banging
awoke me. I jumped to my feet and ran into the kitchen. My Great Grandmother and
a man were helping a lady get into the house and out of the cold. It was the
young lady from the store that had smiled at me. She was covered in snow and
ice, her face pale and wet. Her big heavy coat cracked from the ice as they
helped her pull her arms out and set her in a chair next to the fire.
It
was then I realized that the coat was not big or heavy, she was. She was
pregnant and she was in labor. It was time for what my Great Grandmother called
the birthing.
This was the company that we were expecting and the
reasons everything had to be prepared just right.
As the man and my
Great Grandmother helped the young lady into the extra room, my Great
Grandmother told me to quickly make her a cup of tea with the special herbs she
had already mixed that were on the kitchen table. I poured the water into the
cup carefully, and then added the muslin bag of herbs.
I could hear the
young lady crying and screaming from the extra room. It scared me, but I knew
this was a part of having babies, since my Great Grandmother was a healer and
midwife.
I carefully carried the tea into the extra room and placed it
on the nightstand. My Great Grandmother was calming the young lady, telling her
to breathe off the pain. The man was sitting in the wooden rocking chair beside
the bed trying to hold the young lady’s hand. As I remember now, he looked worse
than she did, at the time.
Once the young lady had calmed, she was given
the special tea to drink. It would ease the pain and help in the birthing. I was
told to get the brown paper so it could be placed on the bed as my Great
Grandmother put the leather straps on the steel frame of the headboard. These
were for the young lady to hold during the birthing.
Soon the young lady
had calmed and even the pains, now one on top of the other, did not cause her to
scream. My Great Grandmother would send the man to check the fire or refill the
coal pot whenever the pains grew too strong. She would have me make tea or bring
the things she would need for the birthing, but she never left the young lady’s
side.
Soon, My Great Grandmother called to me to bring her the baskets
she had readied which were warming behind the kitchen stove. As I ran to bring
them in, I asked which one she wanted.
Laughing, she said, “We are going
to be a- needing them both.”
Standing at the foot of the bed, I saw my
Great Grandmother cleaning the tiny baby with cloth. She handed him to his
mother and took string to tie off the cording. Just then, the lady cried and
water was everywhere.
My Great Grandmother, in a calming voice, told the
man to take his son while his wife finished her work. He looked as if he was
going to fall to the floor. My Great Grandmother said that I should help him
hold the baby and make sure the baby was wrapped warmly.
It was only
minutes until the second baby pushed her way into the world. She was still and
blue. I watched as my Great Grandmother cut the cording and began to work on the
baby. She wrapped her in blankets and rubbed her body, gently patting her on the
back and puffing breathe into her.
As she rubbed the baby, she told her
that she needed to come on into this life since her new parents had been waiting
for her.
I heard the young lady crying as the man was saying it wasn’t
meant to be.
My Great Grandmother just keep working on the baby as she
told them, “Hush now, you're going to confuse her.”
Then, just as the
light of day began to come in the window of that room, it was filled with a
forceful cry from the new baby girl. Soon, the two of them were crying as if
they were reminding each other of who they were.
My Great Grandmother
handed the baby to her new mother and I watched as everyone in that room stood,
amazed at the wonder of life. It was purely magick.
We had company for a
few days after that, the man and the young lady and the two new babies. They
stayed with us until Yule, and then the weather allowed them to go home. It was
so strange, I didn’t even think about presents or decorating. I was too busy
helping and enjoying my new friends and those two beautiful babies.
As I
watched those babies in the arms of their parents, I began to understand what my
Great Grandmother had said.
People have to learn to fear and to have
hate. Maybe if they are like this family, more will learn understanding
instead.
That evening, when the house was quiet and it was again just my
Great Grandmother and me, she came from the kitchen with a big box wrapped in
bright colored cloth. It was my Yule gift. I had forgotten. The weather had not
allowed the sisters or family to come for a Yule celebration. I jumped and ran
to open the box and inside was my first doll that came from a store. I hugged
the baby doll and climbed into my Great Grandmother's lap.
I
understand now that the truest of gifts I was to ever be given was the time,
learning and wisdom I received in the loving arms of my Great
Grandmother.
It never mattered to my Great Grandmother who came to her
for help. It would not have mattered if the young lady had been one of people
who turned their back as we walked by. She would have helped and did whatever
was needed because she was true and her spirit was true.
May your
holidays be filled with magick, truth, and love--as we all seek the wisdom held
within all.
Blessed shall we be.
Lady Abigail
Copyright © 12012007
High Priestess of Ravensgrove Coven
Greenfield, IN area
Copyright © Sages
Corner 2009
