Lehman’s Country Life

Our neighbor is 96 years old and she still goes for a walk several times each week. Very slowly she makes her way along the pasture fence between our properties. Then she turns around and goes home, carefully avoiding the ruts in the dirt road.  I have gone out to greet her only occasionally.

A simple hello always means a commitment to thirty minutes, or more, of conversation. I know that’s not much in the larger scheme of things. And, it means so much to older people when you give them the gift of time. But these days life seems to be all a rush and time is a precious commodity. Often my husband reminds me that I’m not keeping up with everything I have committed to do. I get stingy.

That’s why I’m pleased to share what I’ve learned about another gift we can give each other. It’s the gift of Story. Yes, it takes time. But it’s fun too and it fuels the imagination. Here’s how I learned about it.
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Whether you are a Christian, Jewish, a neo-pagan or celebrate Kwansa, all the ‘deep mid-winter’ festivals have one thing in common. At this darkest time in the Northern Hemisphere, we celebrate light.

Jesus is revered as the ‘Light of the World.’ In Hanukah Jews celebrate the ‘Festival of Lights.’ Pagans recount the tale of how the Corn King, having been cut down and sacrificed at Harvest, is reborn by the Great Mother; even though the winter solstice is the shortest day, it marks the return of the Light and lengthening days.

Interwoven with this theme of light is the urge to remind ourselves that the earth will wake up out of its long sleep with new growth.
Psychologically, it makes sense that many of us with European ancestors, drag indoors any bit of evergreen to remind ourselves that no matter how cold it is outside, life always renews.
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