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Well, there’s always the “Burning Times” nonsense, and the “once the whole world lived in a great gynocratic utopia of healers and midwives and cabana boys until the mean nasty Sky God Worshippers came from the North and subjugated the wymmyn” thing.
Seriously, the great thing about being pagan is you can make up your own bullshit to tell your kids.
Did I ever tell you my El-ahrairah story, about the coming of Spring? All winter long, the trolls and winter-sleeping plants and animals slept. They slept so long, it looked like they’d never wake up! El-ahrairah, the Bunny God, painted eggs in bright colors and rolled them into the trolls’ caves. The trolls (to whom eggs are poisonous, of course) immediately woke and ran out of their caves, bellowing and screaming. This, of course, woke all the trees and plants and winter-sleeping animals. Every year, we decorate and hide eggs to make sure the trolls wake up!
My son and I together wrote another one about how the trolls got put to sleep in the first place, also by El-ahrairah. Near the Autumn Equinox, they were partying so loudly that none of the trees could get to sleep. So El-ahrairah made apple cider, and rolled a barrel of it into the middle of the trolls. The trolls got drunk on the cider and fell asleep, so finally the trees could drop their leaves (making their “beds”) and pull up a comfy blanket of snow and sleep all winter long.
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Very cool.
My attitude is “Religions don’t exist in a vacuum” and I know that my spiritual calling is a pig’s breakfast of different traditions, myths, and good-ol’ well, this works for me.
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A nun who ran my CCD (religious instruction class) told us never to point at people. “When you point at them,” she stated “You kill a part of their soul.”
I also recall hearing that if you chewed the Holy Communion wafer after the priest inserted it into your mouth, the blood of Christ would hemmorhage from it.
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Good lord and butter! I always thought that parochial school horror stories were just an urban legend.