My children, Bear and Sparrow. are now five years old and almost seven. Having grown-up in a pagan household, they've seen their share of magick and ritual. Sparrow has helped in sabbat rituals and we do simple energy work with stones or a cauldron. I never push for them to participate. They often ask, typically out of the blue, if we can do magick or how to meditate or contact the spirit world. Both Bear and Sparrow understand death and the afterlife and they've initiated long conversations about what their existence was like before they came into this lifetime.
Now that they're getting older, it's time to begin teaching them the core concepts of paganism. It's clear already that Sparrow's path will mirror my own. She is constantly asking me to teach her various concepts related to magick and spirituality. While she quietly holds her tongue, Sparrow disagrees with her Christian classmates beliefs, having decided on her own that "God is everything," meaning that everything in all of existence, herself included, is divine and composed of Spirit. She'll initiate conversations about shamanism while I'm cooking dinner and when we pray as a family, her words echo my own. She's also a "big dreamer," having excellent dream recall and vivid experiences in the Dreamtime.
Bear, on the other hand, is still finding his way and I'm giving him all of the room and support that he needs to explore. He's more interested in baseball cards than the occult. It's not that he's not spiritual. Where the path for Sparrow is a journey where she wants to explore every nook and cranny, Bear takes a very matter-of-fact approach, essentially saying, "Dude, it's a path. I get it. I'm going to honor mine and go play now."
Which is an approach that I completely admire and respect.
Both of the kids are very interested in science and how the world works, so I've decided to begin their training by focusing on the equinoxes and solstices. We're not worrying about the names of sabbats or which cultures honored which gods. They are kids after all. So mirroring a concept that I offer my students in their second or third year of study, we're developing our own symbolism and mythology for the events.
Spring Equinox
In our little corner of the world, the spring equinox honors the arrival of Puck, an elfin spirit who shepherds the animals out of their burrows and the blossoms out into the springtime air. The focus is on the changes in the natural world, the deepening of spring and abundance of life that is beginning to awaken around us.
The night before the equinox, the kids will each leave a basket out for Puck to find and fill. In the morning, when the children awake, the baskets will be filled with gifts and tokens of spring. This year, for the first time, the baskets will also contain a simple note holding the statement, "Make a wish to help Nature grow." Both of the children are very inquisitive and Sparrow will undoubtedly read the notes to her brother. If they don't connect to the concept on their own, I'll step in, guiding them as they offer blessings to the world around them.
As the hours of daylight continue to lengthen, I'll offer the children subtle opportunities to find their wishes manifesting in the natural world as birds begin to nest and flowers continue to bloom.
Summer Solstice
For the first time since the children entered this lifetime, we'll be camping as a family over the summer solstice, either as part of a backpacking trek or in the embrace of one of the local pagan festivals.
As we gather around our campfire, we'll honor Aine, a Celtic goddess associated with Midsummer and the moon. That night, as our fire reaches for the sky, she will take bits of our flame to light the stars, the moon, and the hearths of homes for the until the next summer solstice. Raising cups of our favorite warm drinks, we'll toast Aine, offering our fire and our well-wishes and honoring her energy in all the forms of light we find in our world as the hours of sunlight begin to fade. The joy of our summer solstice experiences will be found in the phases of the moon, the starry sky, the glow of our winter holiday lights, and all of the illumination in between.
Fall Equinox
At the fall equinox, we honor Gaia, the spirit of the earth. When Sparrow was an infant, we lived in a house owned by her mother's family that had once been part of a small farm. On the nights that my daughter couldn't sleep, I'd take her in my arms and walk under the fruit trees, the two of us looking at the stars and talking to the trees. On the fall equinox that year, she and I poured libations of well water on the roots of the trees and wished them a pleasant slumber.
The next year we welcomed a bumper crop of fruit, including gifts from a tree that hadn't produced apples in more than a decade.
This year, the children will assist with the planning and preparation of a big meal that includes locally grown foods and we'll eat it together as a family. After the feast, we'll go out with a stoneware pitcher of water and pour libations on the roots of the deciduous trees we spend time with and wish them a sweet slumber for the winter, much as Sparrow and I did when she was a tiny baby.
When we get home, we'll drink warm mugs of spiced cider and use our warm breath to steam the windows of our home, drawing images of what we hope to find for ourselves and for the natural world in the months ahead on the frosted glass. In the days and weeks ahead, we'll then watch for Gaia's sleeping breath to frost the ground outside. The first person in the family to spot the first frost gets to plan a special evening for everyone in the family to enjoy.
Winter Solstice
This all started with the winter solstice. Being divorced from the kids' mother meant that the children's' holiday celebrations had to be divided between the two homes. Their mom is part of a large clan of relatives which they celebrate major holidays with, so the children spend Christmas with that part of the family and winter solstice with me. Since every child knows that Santa Claus comes on Christmas morning, I needed to find an alternative method to make the holiday special.
Enter Tristan, the elf.
What seemed like a simple idea had to be fleshed out on the spot when an inquisitive child started asking questions that her father wasn't prepared to answer. Thankfully, I think quickly on my feet. It turns out, much to my surprise, that Tristan is one of Santa's helpers and makes a special trip down (on his trusty steed, Forrest, the reindeer), the night before winter solstice to deliver gifts to our family. It's one of the benefits of their dad being one of Santa's helpers.
From that point forward it's a fairly typical American holiday celebration. The stockings are filled to capacity and the gifts that Tristan brings are left under the tree, pre-assembled and ready to play with . We've always opened gifts one at a time, each person taking their turn and the others waiting with anticipation to see what the gift might be or how a gift will be received. Last year we added the tradition that the gift-giver would present the recipient with the gift and the phrase, "I wanted to give you this gift because," and they would then offer up, "It made me think of you" or "I know you've been hoping for one of these" or even something simple like, "It's your favorite color."
This year we will go outside as a family and welcome the sun before we begin opening gifts.
These celebrations may not seem like much, but they teach the children to begin observing the natural world and the flow of life. The sun is born at winter solstice. Flowers are blooming and animals are returning at the spring equinox. The hours of daylight begin to fade at summer solstice. Fall equinox brings the harvest and the coming of winter. But more than that, these celebrations knit us together as a family and create memories that all of us, young and old alike, will cherish for a lifetime.