Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Steak Sans Sizzle

Blessings, Darlings!

It was a Tuesday evening some 6 years ago. No one recalls what the phase of the moon was or any of the other astrological influences.

It was an evening magic was done.

The women met not in the woods, or meadow, or sea shore.  They met at the Borders Bookstore in a centralish location, on a highway, surrounded by lots of other big box stores..  They brought their tired having-worked-all-day bodies, and their children.  After all, no ritual was planned, no worship, no workings.  It was going to be a social evening, a group of Pagan friends sipping coffee and talking.

They certainly did drink coffee and talk.

N's daughter was pregnant again, a wonderful thing.  She had miscarried once already, a devastating loss.  Yes, a likely cause had been identified and mundane medical folks were working on solutions, but the reverberations from the miscarriage were very  much alive for N, her husband, her daughter, and her son in law.

It's NOT fair to say that the women SPRANG into action.  No, the magic that followed was not a bustling, high-octane kind of energy use, a fact that is a little surprising given all the caffeine flowing.

Two of the group walked next door - among the other big box store was a craft store.  Sneaky God/dess/es!  From the supply of 3 or 4 inch tall sturdy wooden letters they selected the one that began the daughter's name.  They picked up 9 feet each of ribbon, in traditional baby pastels of white, green, and yellow.  Then they returned to the pushed-together tables at Borders.

Centers of the ribbons were tied to the wooden letter, and the women began braiding.  Intentions of full term pregnancy, blessings for mother and child, simple goals, braided by each woman in turn.  Conversations continued.  The women's children came in and out of the cafe, showing the books they were reading, asking questions, talking with their mothers and the other women, sipping cocoa, nibbling dessert.  Other tables had other people sipping their drinks, reading their books and magazines, having their conversations. 

Oh - yes, in due time N had her healthy, full-term grandson. 

Frondly, Fern

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