While I had hung up the hat of organized religion for myself, I made sure that my children went to Sunday School and church with my parents who insisted on taking them. I celebrated their fun and learning in this. I had loved the social aspect of being in the youth group growing up and felt my children should have the same opportunities to be able to make educated decisions about what they did or didn’t believe in.
I started this one tradition when the kids were little in 1994, and their ages were thirteen, six and three, well, the three year old was almost four, and I was with the guy who would become my second husband. It involved a little bit of witchery and motherly common sense. For Thanksgiving we did our own little celebration where we would have a light dinner prepared of foods the children liked and some holiday styled notepaper to write on. After we ate, the children and my guy and I would write down what we were each thankful for. Of course, my youngest couldn’t write it so I wrote her response as she told me. We would read them out loud and talk about them. We kept these notes in a box and would burn them at a ceremony on New Year’s Eve.
Then I had them write one gift they really wanted Santa to bring for Christmas. They read these so we could hear, too, because, you know, part of teaching magick to children, in my opinion, is to do your part to help it manifest and I would make sure that I got them what they wanted on their list. They knew our budget and I had given them magazines and catalogs and they watched television commercials to know what was on the market at that time. We took the note paper with their gift wish and put in a cauldron I had and I lit it. We watched as the papers burned into ashes. While they were burning, I carried the cauldron outside to our front porch and they followed. Then we recited Psalm 20:4, May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed, as I tilted the cauldron to let the ashes fly with the breeze and off to be turned into magic.
I remember the first time I started this my youngest daughter asked for a horse. I wasn’t sure how to help this to manifest until one time the kids were watching cartoons on television a week before Christmas and my youngest said excitedly, “Mommy! Horse! Horse!” To which I walked into the living room and looked at the television screen and felt a big relief as I saw it was the walking Barbie horse that Mattel had come out with. I sighed as this just made her wish easy to grant.
Over the years I watched as each of my children expanded their knowledge and have found their own place in their lives with their beliefs.
Today when my oldest daughter called me on the phone to chat and my granddaughter was talking with me, too, my daughter made the comment to her daughter in response to something her daughter was asking simply as, “because your mommy is a witch.” I just smiled and listened.
My granddaughter replied in her sweet little voice, “That’s why you can do magic, Mommy.”
“Grandma Julie is a witch, too,” my daughter continued to tell her, “and she gave me my power when I was old enough to have it.” I laughed inside because it was not quite like that, but I could see that my daughter did pick up my talent for weaving stories to children.
“I can’t have power yet because I’m not an adult.”, my granddaughter said with a little bit of sadness in her voice.
Her mother replied, “No, not till you are old enough to use it wisely.”
My oldest daughter becoming a witch and using magic was done completely on her own through the years. During my move out here to Vermont, I didn’t take all of my books and let the kids pick out what they wanted after I had boxed and shipped the ones I deemed most important. On one of the trips back home to visit I had noticed, while at my daughter and her husband’s place, that she had several of the witchcraft books I had left behind. I am adopted and I have no idea where I came from or who my parents are or what my background is made of, but if this is this strong to be passing down thru the generations, I can only imagine that the Witch was always in me and that it might have been passed down to me, too.