FULL MOON RITUAL October 2002

Jess spent the day giving the house a thorough clean and polish. She vacuumed the kitty tumbleweeds, scrubbed the kitchen and bathroom, dusted, fluffed, and otherwise put away the flotsam and jetsam of her life which always seemed to accumulate in piles. A quick smudge in each room banished any spiritual dust and grime.

After a well deserved break (and beer), she set about decorating. The windows were transformed into spooky scenes of haunted houses, gloomy graveyards, and creature-filled woods. Orange and purple lights hung over doors. Baskets and bowls were filled with candy, fall fruit, and chips and dip (ok, it's still a party). Two plastic cauldrons were set on the table and filled with punch (spiked and spike-free).

In the kids room, she set up a spider's web to be untangled. She taped large sheets of paper to the wall with pens for drawing. Bowls with little toys and candies were strategically placed about the room.

Now, for my costume! Khaki pants, boots, pith helmet, trowel, a bit of dirt about the face and Presto! Archaea, the Muse of Prehistory!

The doorbell rang and the first guests arrived in their finery. Contributions to the party fare were left in the kitchen. Kids were sent to play, unravel, and get spooky. Adults were invited to play, eat, drink, listen, talk, etc.

Throughout the night, the doorbell rang heralding more guests, or neighborhood children yelling TRICK OR TREAT!!!! Candy and small plastic toys went flying out the door. As the treaters dwindled and the night wore on, Jess called her guests together and let them in on the night's events.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming tonight! I hope you're having a great time! Tonight in the last full moon before Samhain. We all have our private rituals for this High Holiday, but tonight let's celebrate together.

"The doorbell will ring several times tonight. Each ring brings a different aspect of the divine to the ceremony. You will know when the ring is for you. If it is your turn to answer the call, take an empty bowl from the table by the door. Fill the bowl with your offering. Give it to the spirit at the door and accept something in return..."

..."Please make yourselves comfortable. This house is a sanctum, it is a sacred space. Don't be afraid of what passes here. By the same token, do not bring what you cannot contain.

"If you wish, take a moment to ground yourself."

Jess pauses, allowing the guests to find their places and relax. She moves to a side table where a row of unlit candles was waiting. Grasping the sacred Aim'n'Flame, she lights a white candle. As the wick catches, the doorbell sounds: the hollow sound of bamboo chimes moving with the wind...

...The eerie sound of the windblown bamboo chimes causes goose pimples to rise along Beth's bare arms. Swallowing her last-minute uncertainly about the wisdom in volunteering to answer the call of the East, she steps forward and casts an uneasy look at Jess. Silently she asks if she should really do this and offers to melt out the back door and find her way back to her car through the alley. "No one would have to know we hadn't planned it like that, Jess.. you could just do it the way you envisioned it then."

Jess' deep brown eyes meet Beth's squarely and the reflection of the single candle flame burning on the side table dances in them. "You can do it," is her equally silent response.

Hands shaking slightly, Beth adjusts her sparkly green wood faery mask and smoothes the softly jagged edges of her black deerskin bodice over her hips. Her feet are bare and the uneven bottom of the calf-length dryad skirt touches the green ivy vine design that winds up her legs from her ankles. The ivy body paint reappears over the length of her bare arms from fingers to throat and finally disappears into the base of her shoulder-length hair.

Delicately intertwined in her hair is a garland of tiny iridescent green and purple leaves which she has chosen to match the suede oak leaves of the same green and purple hues that are sewn in a falling trail that curves down the front of the black deerskin bodice from her right shoulder to her left hip.

Wishing she felt as sparkly and self-confident on the inside as she did on the surface, Beth draws a deep breath inward and picks up the covered wicker basket she has brought to Jess' party to carry her "treats" for the East. Although in one way or another she has worked on the contents of this basket for a lifetime, it now feels somehow inadequate.

The bamboo chimes sound again in the wind and Beth finds herself moving, almost reluctantly, towards the front door to greet this visitor, one hand clutching her small basket and the other extended to grasp the doorknob. She feels the stir of the wind around her as she hesitantly pulls the door open and is surprised, in spite of herself, when nothing jumps out at her from the shadows demanding "Trick or Treat!"

Instead there is just an unearthly silence and a swirling grey mist that plays with the jagged edges of the dryad costume and lifts the loose tendrils of hair from her neck. Completely unsure what to do, Beth glances back to Jess and the gathered guests for reassurance, but they have disappeared in the mist that now surrounds her.

"Spirits of the East," she begins tentatively, her voice sounding small and shaky to herself. "Tonight, on Samhain's full moon, I offer pieces of my life that I once thought rock solid and infallible. I offer my humility in once thinking that I knew the answers and I offer visions of a future that no longer is."

Unsteadily slipping the cover off her wicker basket, Beth reaches into it and draws out the pieces of a photograph that has been torn into many segments. Some of the pieces show children's happy faces, some show a smiling couple, and some others of horses and green fields in the background.

Mixed in with the pieces of the picture are two other objects: a small notched white gold band and an oval, grey lake stone rune that Beth has carved with the single glyph of Thurisaz.

"Spirits of the wind and change, I bow to you and accept your greater wisdom. Take these offerings as a symbol of my faith that the turmoil my life is in now and the turmoil that surrounds so many of the people I care for is but a transition to something better for all of us."

Hand shaking, Beth slowly opens her fingers and watches in silence as the mist envelops the torn photograph pieces, the band, and the stone rune she has offered to the elements of the East. She feels the damp coolness of the air surrounding her and closes her eyes, for a moment losing sense of time and place.

When she reopens her eyes, her hand is empty. She is still standing on Jess' front stoop, the mist has receded slightly, and she is aware of something in her wicker basket again. Startled and a little disoriented, she looks into the basket and for a moment cannot move. Inside lie three items that she recognizes, but ones that she did not bring with her tonight. The first is a perfectly preserved dragonfly shell that was found for her on a recent trip to Pennsylvania. Beside it lies a curl of birch bark that she found of one of her "shore walks" at her family's summer place on Seneca Lake in western NY the previous summer. The final item is one of her lake stone runes from these shores, this one with a red Dagaz, the symbol of dawn, transformation and balance, carved on it.

Beth stares at these precious things and lets their meaning sink down into her being. She turns her face slightly upward and murmurs softly: "Spirits of the East, Hail and Welcome."

Silently, with a tear sliding down her cheek behind the sparkly green wood faery mask, she closes the basket, turns, and slowly steps back into Jess' front hall to find her place once again with those gathered there under this Samhain full moon...

...Jess embraces Beth, kissing her on both cheeks and sending her, still goose pimpled, to sit with the others and drink a much-needed glass of wine.

She turns back to the side table and lights an orange candle. As the flame catches, there is an insistent buzz, the drone of bees diligently flying from flower to flower in the head of the summer. She looks to Fern: "Would you get that?..."

..."Bees. It HAD to be bees.. ", Fern thinks.

She rises to her feet, glitter falling everywhere - someone remind her to NOT let suz glitter her again! The glitter doesn't cling to the sari she wears, as the material is so smooth that not even a fly could cling to it. The colors shimmer as she moves - golds, oranges, yellows, reds, a bit of green and blue, a candle flame in motion.

In her henna'd hands she carries a tray with her own offerings. Marigolds, sweet cakes, golden jewelry, another sari, and some (beanie baby) cows: traditional items exchanged at Indian weddings. She rustles her way to the door, and opens it.

It's not quite like opening the door to an oven. Hot it is, but not dry heat. Nor does it carry the familiar scent of baking bread. Heavy in the heat is a rich but foreign mix of odors. Unfamiliar spices, bower upon bower of strange flowers, smoke from fires and really GOOD incense, musk of cattle and people. The wavering lines of rising heat and smoke obscure her vision, she feels more than sees eyes upon her from both in the room and from beyond the door.

"Spirits of the South," she starts, "Spirits of summer's heat, of summer's abundant life, sweetness, fertility, slick sweatiness! Spirits who dance in the night, after the sun sets but the air remains warm and caressing! Spirits of color and brightness and the flame of desire, as well as the glowing embers of desire sated for a time! I invite you to join our gathering, bringing all your technicolor aspects and darting dreams. I offer you sweets, and gold, and cattle as the dower for the marriage of your spirits to ours."

The warm breeze caresses Fern as she stands. A flash of heat lightening blinds her - and her offerings are gone. In their place there is honey in the comb, mead (honey transformed by Spirit), and really good brandy. The scent of jasmine fills the room. "Spirits of the South, Blessings and Welcome!"

Fern smiles at the return, all the ways to take in Spirit - and two of them gifts of bees! - turns back into the room. She adds the gifts to the feast foods, and takes her place in the circle...

...As the bell for the West rings.. .

Nym' fills her offering bowl with fresh water pearls, aquamarines and polished river rock.. .. Waters of change, waters of life, water with its power to cleanse and purify.

The element of water has always spoken clearly to Nym', the flow of emotion, change, life and death.

As Nym' prepares to open the door she remembers how unpredictable water can be.. be it a treat or trick, her love of it is constant.. .Nym' pulls the door open wondering which it will choose.. the treats she has to offer .. Or.. remembering the playful nature of water, Nym' quickly DUCKS behind the door.. .. .

SPLASH!!!!!!!!!!

Nym' turns to see Suz, dripping wet standing in the doorway.. ..

OOPS!...

...Jess lights a deep green (almost black) candle. As she does, there sounds a deep, resonant bell, the kind used in Buddhist temples. It only rings once, a sound so low you almost can't hear it, but you can feel the sound waves hitting your ear.

The call of the bell draws a startled Cailean to her feet. She had been so enjoying the party and the ritual, enjoying the costume tryout for her Halloween baby shower next weekend. The black silk and lace skirt that skimmed her toes and the red & black lacy corset fit perfectly.. the black lurex fishnets and spike heels added a sexy touch.. the black raven wings were just the right size-big enough to be seen but not so big that they made it difficult to maneuver through the crowds.. and her handmade black and blood red rose silk crown topped it perfectly. A piece of bramble wood in her hand as her fairy wand finished the look. Her evil fairie godmother actually came off. SIGH..

It is with a bit of trepidation that she approaches the door. Earth is not her element. Or rather not one she works with much. Following the steps of those before her, she grasps the basket she had brought with her from California. Slowly she pulls the door open. Confusion fills her and then a touch of lightness. A woman stands at the door. Tall, matronly, with dark hair and eyes. A garland of daisies in her hair and a white gown with full gauzy sleeves covered her. Cailean smiles as recognition hits - OF COURSE, it was the actress who played Mother Nature on those silly margarine commercials so long ago. Funny, though, how she hadn't aged a day. A warmth exudes from the woman like the warmth from sun-baked earth. A scent of the woods on a fall day envelops her. Her smile is both sad and benevolent. She holds her hands out to Cailean, who touches them lightly. A spark flies thru her and she knows that she stands in the presence of not an actress but the Gaia, Mother Earth Herself, who for her own reasons has chosen this face to wear. A sense of awe fills Cailean as the presence surrounds her and filters past her to the others in the house.

"Mother, my gifts for you are simple." Cailean pull out several cuttings from her beautiful jasmine plants, the rosemary bush and lavender plants that grow wild on her property and one of the climbing roses from her backyard wall. "I have never learned to till the earth, to seed her and watch her gifts grow. This I promise you, this year, I will begin a small herb garden so that I might become more in tune with you and to share the bounty with friends and family and strangers alike." Next she pulls an empty soda can from her basket. "Oh Lady, I watch in horror as humans destroy your beauty. So, I will do as the saying goes: Think globally; Act locally. I have spoken to the powers that be at the studio where I work about instituting a better recycling program. I have been given the task of researching and implementing it. This, too, I offer as a gift to you."

Cailean looks shyly into Mother's eyes and is stunned by the warmth and humor there. The house is suddenly filled with the scent of wild flowers and fruit. And Gaia places in Cailean's basket several packets of seeds and a book, "Gardening for Dummies". Cailean smiles and watches as the door slowly closes. She goes back to the others filled with wonder and looking for her wine glass...

...Jess hugs Caillean as she passes. "Hey! I have that book!"

Reaching for the lighter, Jess taps and almost upends the oil lamp she's chosen for the God. Righting it with a gasp, she lights it. A series of quick, decisive raps calls Topaz to the door...

...Topaz dressed with care in a deep forest green ankle length dress made of soft velvet. Resting in the V of the neckline she hung a marquis cut emerald pendant from a gold chain her Dad had given her as a wedding gift, as well as her string of pearls, a gift from her second Mom. She let her dark blonde hair flow freely down her back in soft curls, with a crown of variegated ivy and fresh lemon thyme encircling her head. She left her feet bare, and placed a gold chain strung with little bells on her right ankle that would tinkle as she walked. One final touch, a peacock feather eye mask. She surveyed herself in the mirror, her blue-green eyes sparkling from beneath the mask. Just a touch of russet colored lipstick and she was ready.

Taking the lit oil lamp given by Jess, she put her offering basket over her arm and headed to answer the doorbell. Earlier she'd filled it with a layer of oak leaves and holly branches interspersed with the same variegated ivy as her head piece. On top of it, carefully set, was a luscious chocolate cake with a thick ganache drizzled on the top in the shape of a spider's web. Around it she sprinkled various wrapped mini chocolate bars, dark ones, milk chocolate, and white chocolate. On a whim she had also added a bottle of chilled red Beaujolais, wrapped in a white linen cloth and twined with deep red ribbons.

She opened the door not sure what to expect and was startled to see a quite handsome man of indeterminate age waiting there, seeming quite at ease and pleased with himself, his striking eyes dancing with what she could only construe as merriment. Tricks from this one she thought. And oh the treats. Then her breath caught in her throat as she recognized Him. She murmured words of welcome, although she could never for sure remember later what she'd said, and gently placed the offering basket on His arm as a gift. She kissed Him them, softly on each cheek, then once gently on the mouth. Holding the lamp aloft, she beckoned Him enter if He wished and be welcome. The merriment never left His eyes, but she also saw tenderness there, and deep compassion, and many other things she couldn't put into words. He stepped over the threshold then and took her arm in His as they walked to join the others...

...Jess wipes the drool off her chin. "Hey! Don't I get some of that cake? Sheesh. The Gods get all the good food!"

She moves to a ceramic bowl on the table. The blue bowl features a figure reclining along the inside edge: a naked woman with a pronounced belly. The bowl is filled with water and three floating candles in the shapes fall leaves. She lights these as three clear chimes ring. She turns to Pombagira: "Your turn..."

...Pomb laughs at all the trickery -- the woosh of water and rain of candy corn, the teasing and fun that makes this a true party. She's dressed as her namesake goddess tonight, in ruffled gypsy garb, black and red, festooned with ribbons and roses, everything low cut and tight and flouncing, her hair let go to curl and heavy makeup: Red, red lipstick and perfume that could rock the room. She is one of the "good" pombagiras, one whose laughter is like bells, who loves a good joke but never backs down when someone asks her respectfully for help. Never. She's got a mission tonight to intercede with a goddess who don't take no s***, so she's trying to be serious. But when she goes to the door, she still can't resist making a crack:

"Now, just what are you drooling over, Jess? The cake or our last visitor?" She has wrapped in three scarves -- a red over a purple over a black -- and placed in a calico bag an offering for the next caller. A shiny ripe eggplant, dressed the way she likes, festooned with multicolored ribbons. Then chicken with mole sauce, dark with dark chocolate and ground spices. And spicy gingerbread with dark chocolate icing. And a bottle of the deepest red wine.

She opens the door and a flurry of crimson fall leaves blow in on a wind that blows both hot and cold. On the doorstep is a beautiful woman in a long dress swirling with paisleys in deep purples, reds, yellows and oranges. Her skin is deep black and her lips are deep red, her hair in a towering headdress of more purple silk and ribbons.

"Oya, my sister, my mother, you who bring the wind of change, you who fiercely protect the children with your strength, welcome. Please accept these offerings, and join us if you will. We are so happy to see you." Pomb walks back into the room, the wind behind her, and wonders what music might be appropriate for such a group of guests.. but she's sure Jessica has something...

...then Red Deer, clad only in a floor-length buckskin cape and single tined antlers - of course with his ever present bells - hears the faint and yet insistent chiming of eons past. Looking about him at the merry-making, Deer wonders whether he were the only one to notice the seventh sound. All the others seem still so absorbed in discussion of the wonderful events and exchanges of the prior six visits that he thinks not. But to him, the sound becomes ever louder and more insistent. Glancing about again - and still wondering why he seems the only one to hear - Deer finally moves from his place toward the door.

From the table, Deer takes up a bowl and places within his offering to the ancestors. First, a collection of carefully dried leaves - cluas an fheidh, eilidh, guirmean, ros Mhuire, and uile-ice - carefully wrapped in dark brown silk and tied with a black bow. Second, precious resins - metasequoia, frankincense and benzoin - similarly wrapped, but this time in unbleached silk tied with a vivid green bow. And last, this time bound in blood red silk and ribbon, a very personal parcel the contents of which only the ancestors would know..

As he reaches for the door knob with his left hand, ready to proffer the bowl with his right, Deer suddenly reels from the intensity of sound which accosts him from the other side. AS the door opens, seemingly of its own accord, a wash of humanity rolls through him: centuries upon centuries of love, hate, altruism, greed, and - beyond all - blood. That shared by new lovers, by mothers and their babes, by warriors and their foes.. Yet throughout all this a vision rises which burns itself into his mind's "I". Bright and shining, from above and beyond the blood and tears and flesh, they dance as if on the air itself. And, one by one, each in its own time he watches settle into the belly of a woman - to be born, to love, to live and to die, but above all to dance. Whether alone or in pairs, trios, and greater circles. The common thread of humanity.. passion.. primordial.. dancing.. And within that dance flows the balance.

Deer finds his bowl emptied, the light and sound departed and the door closed all so quickly that he wonders whether any time slipped past at all. But, glancing into the bowl once again as he turns to face those celebrating the season, Deer spies his gift. A wisp of mist swirls within, parting now and again to reveal the forms of winged woman and man dancing upon the spine of a golden leaf - the twin of a bronze sculpture given him years ago by Meli & Otto. Reaching gently into the bowl, Deer lifts them from the mist and leaves the on the table set with other accouterments of their ritual. He whispers a silent "Thank you" to those who, in passing before, have lain out the paths which he and others tread today...

...Peg has been sitting comfortably in a cozy chair, enjoying the company, the ritual, the fun, and the companionship. Out of nowhere and everywhere -- it seems -- the bamboo chimes sound once again. But the sound is not hollow or foreboding -- the bamboo almost tinkles. "Oh," she thinks, "it's my turn." Peg rises from the chair, smoothes her glittering purple and silver sequined gown, and picks up a big basket. Inside are lots of the usual candy treats, but also there are a variety of semi-precious stones, fresh herbs from her garden, crayons and paper, and lots of family photographs from all who are gathered here. As she approaches the door, she hears a low hum of giggles and laughter and then opens the door to .. there are just too many to count! Lined up from youngest, shortest to eldest, tallest .. they all giggle and laugh even louder when they yell "Trick or Treat". Peg offers the basket , and after they all share the contents we hear "Blessed Be," said and sung in what sounds like a concert choir! They are all so excited and so many are talking at the same time, except one dressed as a guardian, standing to the side, who somehow looks very familiar to Peg. Silently, within, Peg hears these words: "These are the children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and more, of the guests who are here tonight. They have come to visit with you all. Tell Jess not to worry. They will not take up physical space. They do not wish to hear preaching from you, Mamacita. What they most dearly wish is to converse with, and to learn from their ancestors -- those who are here tonight." As Peg listens to these words, our descendants enter...

...All the candles have been lit. The side table has a warm, strong glow. Finding Harmony in the assembled guests, she taps her on the shoulder.

"The bell won't ring to start the offerings, you'll have to go and open the door to whatever is out there and leave it open for those who'll follow you..."

...Harnony quietly signs to Jessica "thanks!"

Harmony gets up from the floor where she has been quietly sitting and watching. She is wearing a simple blue robe and bare feet. She does have jingle bells on her feet to welcome the spirits :)

She quietly smiles, picks up a basket of apples and a jug and walks to the door, opening it wide. A quiet breeze picks up. The candles flicker and shadows dance around the room. A chill is apparent at the door, but the circle area remains warm..

She turns and speaks to the circle. "Now is the time we can offer our thanks and gifts, as well as making requests. When you make a request, pick up the mug of cider, take a cookie from the basket and dip it in." Harmony sets down the basket.

She takes out the jug of cider, the mug and the box of shortbread cookies.

She picks up one apple that has been sliced in half; revealing Mother Nature's star; a natural reminder of the cycles of life. She sets it down outside the doorway. She picks up one cookie and also sets that outside the door for the critters.

"Thank you Lord, Lady and all the spirits who have helped me over this past year. The lessons have been difficult, but they have been well learned. Thank you for sustaining my confidence and that of my Love, Jade. We now both have jobs in our fields. Jade started to work as a dental lab tech a few months ago, before even graduating. She is far more confident about her future after she gets her degree in the spring. I was offered, and accepted an awesome job opportunity with Virginia Retirement System. I've only been there three days, and already I know this is a good place for me. Thank you for sustaining our family through a year of change. " She then picks up the jug of cider, pours it into the mug. She then picks up a cookie and dips it in. Looking upward she says" I request that my ability to deal with change continue to grow. I request healing energy for my Dad early next month, when he has cornea replacement surgery. I request energy for those who have lost loved ones to the sniper. I request courage to continue to live, in spite of fear."

Harmony then munches down the cookie, grins and goes back to her seat, indicating that the rest of the circle may join in whenever they wish!...

...Boudica has been sitting watching, talking, enjoying the good company and the wonderful friends. She stands up to show the dark blue gown with tiny stars she is wearing, along with the not-so-traditional maroon and blue witches hat she is wearing.

She smiles at everyone and she has a tiny basket of food she is carrying. The wind chimes bump and make the hollow sound of bamboo and she walks to the door. Opening the door, she places the tiny basket of food outside for the ancestors, the spirits, those of our future and the small visitors who will come. There is sweets and meats and breads in the basket, all small in size but made especially for those who will join them.

She looks at the moon, bright and full, and sees the geese flying in v form across Her face, honking their goodbye as they fly south for the winter. She hears the night owls, hooting on their hunt for evening supper.

She hears something else, too, that has been becoming clearer and clearer as this season gets closer and closer. She hears the voices of those who have gone before, whispering sometimes, sometimes demanding her attention. She is not accustomed to such clarity, such presence as the season draws closer and the veils are thin as tissue. Her own conversations with her family over the past week have been .. interesting.

There are others, too, who have touched her here and there, looking for someone to speak their words to. Someone's mother, another's cousin. The last few years have yielded changes in Boudica's life, this being the most challenging to get used to and deal with.

As she blocks out the whispers for a moment, she sees the moon again, and a chill and then a hot flash come over her. She looks at the moon and whispers that if this is where she is to go, then she goes willingly. The whispers die down, and she has some peace for a while.

Then once more she looks at the moon, and asks the Goddess to watch over her son, no matter what path he pursues over the next year or so. He's a good kid, give him a break. She smiles, feels the cool evening air, and she returns inside to the gathered company and closes the door.

The door waits for the next petitioner...

...Fairymoon steps towards the mug and cookies.. She steps up looking kind of nervous its been a long time since she has participated in a full moon ritual with her friend here.. there are many new faces. Her purple and blue fairy costume makes her feel better since she is hidden behind the mask on her face.. the only problem is trying not to hit anyone with her big fairy wings.. As she stand in front of the mug she looks down in to it and a wave of fairy dust falls into the mug.. (i should have pad more intention when the glitter war was on : ) She puts here hand into the air.. and says" blessed lord and lady. thank you for the year of learning I have received.. Thank you for letting me live through the most stupidest time of my life.. You have showed me that I have the strength over my life and that I am stronger than I gave my self credit for.. Thank you for my husband and my daughter for keeping them safe and alive.. I ask my lord and lady on this full moon to continue to protect my family and to keep us strong. Let me keep finding my self and my strength in your light I find my strength.. Blessed Be." Fairymoon take a cookie and dips it into the mug.. she hold the half wet mushy cookie in her hand. Walk to the door and places it out side for her fairy friends who she misses very much.. even though she has not seen them lately she knows they are still there.. she feels bad about how neglectful she has been towards them and she hopes to make peace.. she closes the door and goes back to the room walking peacefully.. Then all the sudden she feels a jerk back realizing that her fairy wing just whacked Jess in the head.. Fairymoon face turns bright red and she apologizes to Jess.. Reminder for next year.. no wings...

...Picking up her pith helmet, Jess looks up to see Fairymoon turning crimson. With a wink, she resets it firmly on her head and turns to the door. She takes a cup of cider and a cookie. "Thank you, lady, for those who love and care about me. Thank you for their honesty and concern. And thank you for the patience and understanding we all need to figure out where we're headed. And thank you for keeping me and my friends safe these last two weeks. Grant those in need healing, comfort, and the love of their community to get past something so senseless."

The sweet cider is a welcome contrast to the red wine Jess has had all evening. Returning to her guests, she reminds the assembly that they are welcome to make their requests or offerings, silently or aloud. Jess hugs Harmony and goes to refill glasses and plates...

...Storme rises and goes to the table. She places there a loaf of bread, a bottle of whisky and a box of sea salt. It's a traditional Scottish blessing bread so you may never go hungry, whisky so may always be able to offer hospitality to friends and salt so your life may never lack flavour. She opens the door and goes out to look at the moon. Outside she places a neep lantern and a basket of apples and sweets. The apples she will later bury as an offering to her ancestors and friends who have gone before and the sweets are for whoever wants them.

She smiles at the moon. 'Thank you Lady for all your gifts' she says. 'I have a new job to start on Monday. It's the job I have always wanted, working with the homeless and I am so lucky to get it.' She is nervous about starting it as she hasn't worked for 9 years, she has spent that time looking after her son. She is grateful that he has progressed to a stage where she can work. There was a time she didn't see that happening. Her daughter is settled at college and seems happier than she has for a while. 'We have all been truly blessed. Thank you' she whispers and returns indoors to join the party feeling that things are truly looking up...

...The last of the guests said their good-byes and ventured out in to the late October night. Outside the door lay a pile of apples, cookies, cider cups, and random piles of glitter. The spirits and the neighborhood wildlife would be well fed tonight!

Jess went to the side table and began extinguishing the candles. With each she said thank you to the deities and spirits, bade them stay if they wanted, and wished them a speedy return with their leaving.

She poured herself a small glass of port and brushed glitter from an overstuffed chair (I'm gonna be vacuuming that stuff up for weeks!). She sat munching a cookie and savoring the warm, sweet port. Clean up could wait until morning. Tonight she would remember the ritual, the games, and the guests who made it such a magical time.