On Samhain Night….

A short story.

On Samhain night, the air was cool and she pulled her shawl over her hair and wrapped it around her shoulders.  She went outside, lit the candles and cast the circle, calling on her Ancestors and asking for their guidance and wisdom.  As she stared into the flames, she asked of them “Where am I going?  What is my purpose?”  In her hand she held the deck of cards and she focused her intent on them.  Intuition told her four cards where required, one for each direction. 

She drew the first card – Bones for Casting.  Of course, it would be this card, it was always this card.  Before the Tarot, before other forms of divination, the Ancient Ones would cast the bones and divine the meaning from how they fell and she too had this gift.  The Bones had called to her for months now and the knowledge had always been innate within her.  The Bones spoke to her.  This message was from her father, who had crossed over a few years earlier.  He whispered in her ear, “Dear child, I showed you the Bones.  They are the wisdom keepers.”  She knows what he refers to.  Growing up on a farm she knew about life and death and the Bones left behind when an animal dies.  He knew those Bones carried wisdom too.  And now this knowledge, the Medicine of these animals, has been passed to her. 

She drew the second card – Medicine Bag.  It too had a picture of a Bone on it.  He whispered in her ear, “You were always the strong one, be strong now.  You can walk the Beauty Way.  Will you carry the Medicine Bag of your Ancestors?  The knowledge was lost but by walking the Beauty Way you can regain it.”  Was that her father’s voice or some long lost relative calling to her through the thinning veils?  She thinks of her mother’s family, traced back to 16^th century England and beyond.  Her mother’s people were Celtic stock.  Was there a Druid calling to her across the centuries to carry the Crane Bag?  Could she, would she, be strong enough to carry that treasure? 

She drew the third card – Air.  The wind picked up, blowing out one of the candles.  “Oh yes”, she said, “I know you are here”.  The first breath of that Ancient One, her Ancestors over the generations, the last breath they each took in turn down the line.  The Red Thread, the bloodline through the centuries.  She is the product of the love of thousands and tonight she feels the changes in the air.  “You already know the answer” the wind whispers.  “Stop resisting.  Your fear controls you.  You won’t fall, you will fly. Let your creativity soar.”  She understands the message.  It is time to create, to manifest and to live this glorious life that has been gifted to her.  Her ancestors demand nothing less.

She drew the fourth and final card revealing the last message – Birds.  Like the Bones, she knows the meaning here too.  It is her father again.  “I taught you about the birds.  All the traits of the different birds, their birdcalls.  Remember the Bush Turkey that would eat from your hand?  The little Butcher Bird that would steal food from the kitchen table?  They were all messengers Little One. Remember this wisdom and share it.”  Ah yes, she knows this Medicine too.  The feathers and birds have been finding their way to her for years now.

She sets the cards down around the photo of her father.  She continues to stare at the candles, but the voices have gone quiet.  The message has been received and with the guidance she has received tonight, she knows exactly which direction she will take.  She gives her thanks, leaves her offerings and closes circle.  For the first night in months she sleeps soundly.  Her Ancestors are here with her, guiding and protecting her.  She never had anything to be afraid of, for she is so loved. 

In the morning, she wakes with the birdsong at dawn, stretching and rising out of bed.  It is a new day and the first day of the rest of her life. 

And her journey has only just begun.