Updated: Apr 19, 2020
Once upon a time, not too long ago, in the country of your choice, there lived a woman who took care of people. She enjoyed a strong connection to the land and the people living on it. She knew the lore of the native plants and animals. She knew what to do when any of these in her care felt dis-ease.
She tried to prevent disease and treat the whole of a person. So, when she prescribed a root or leaf the instructions were to brew half into a tea. The rest would be tied with great skill and hung on the bed post where the patient could see it and feel gratitude.
Gratitude brings abundance you know. That applies to health as well as wealth. So mote it be.
As time marched on some folks started to consider the brew to be folk medicine but the talisman to be folk magick. Superstition and new ideas made it necessary for the woman to hide her talent or at least, disguise it. Using the new ideas themselves to hide in plain sight.
Goddesses became saints. Amen replaced So Mote it Be. The woman took on fewer and fewer apprentices. The Old Ways got lost for a while but not forgotten. Ancestor memory can be very clear sometimes when you open yourself to it. I believe my spirituality comes directly through that channel and it is strong this time of year. It is strongest when I am cooking.
I want to make Pasta Fazool for Samhain to honor my Grandmother Albina. She crossed the veil before I was born so I never got the chance to cook with her in person, so I must allow her to guide me in spirit. I found a nice recipe. I think she will like it.
The blog I found it on is called
“My Italian Grandmother”.
Now if that’s not a sign I don’t know what is. Check it out. There are lots of recipes there I want to try.