Raising a child in the Pagan way can be a difficult thing in today's world.  This page is for the children and their parents who have chosen to walk this path.  Submissions of ideas, advice, workings, experiences, etc. are always welcome.   And now, I'll turn this over to my son.

My mom wrote this story for me to help me learn about how the Goddess was a kid once too.  I hope you like it as much as I did.                                                                     Tristan Robinson Anya Anya shivered in the cold as she stood in the farmyard, struggling to light the lantern. “Why,” she wondered, “did sheep have to have their lambs in the middle of winter?”
  She fumbled at the latch on the byre gate, her fingers clumsy in her heavy mittens. Didn't sheep know they'd freeze, or that their lambs might die?  Sheep were silly, Anya thought, and she was twice as silly to be out here with them.
  “Why am I out here?”  she asked herself aloud.  She tripped over her own feet and fell, nearly putting out the lantern as she flailed her arms trying to get up.
   That's why I'm out here, she fumed, because I'm too big!
Too big to stay inside and sleep by the fire, too big to play games like the baby, and too big to walk on top of the snow!
  Lifting the light, Anya stumbled on through the drifts, trying to see the pregnant ewes through the blowing snow.  She counted under her breath.
 “One, two, three,....six,....please Lady, let me find them all quickly, so I can go back inside, she thought,......nine, ten…  Anya whipped around squinting at the humped snow, wishing one would turn into a sheep.  None did.
  “Oh no!  Where was the eleventh ewe?”  She mustn't be dead!  They'd already lost two ewes and three lambs this winter.  They couldn't afford to lose any more!
  Staring all along the outer fence row, Anya finally saw the
ewe.  It was down!  The snow caught in its heavy fleeces had
dragged it down into a drift.  As she came closer, Anya saw that
ice had begun to form on its nose.  The ewe struggled, pushing itself further into the snow in its fear.  Crouching down next to the terrified animal, Anya tried to clear the snow from its nose.
  “You have to live!”  she shouted as she began to pull on the ewe, trying to drag it from the snow bank.  Anya grunted with her
efforts and, suddenly, the ewe was free!  Heaving the animal into her arms, Anya trudged across the field back towards the byre.
  “I have to get you inside where its warm,” she told the ewe.  “There's warm hay too.  Just donut move so I donut drop you”
  When she got to the byre, she kicked open the door and settled the ewe in a stall onto clean hay.  After checking to see that the ewe was breathing well and had water to drink, Anya left
the byre.  She stomped the snow from her boots and, as she opened the front door, she put out the lantern.
  “Anya!”  her mother gasped at the sight of her daughter, all
covered in snow.  “Come here to the fire and get warm.  How did
you get so wet, little one?”
  Anya smiled at her mothers' fussing.  “Little one?”  she smiled more as she thought of the ewe, “not too little.”

 

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