The Burning of the Yule LogA Story by Delores JordanThis was published in an anthology titled Christmas Is a Season 2009, Excalibur Press, Linda busby Parker, editor“The Burning of the Yule Log” By N L Snowden I wanted no part of Christmas that
year. I didn’t want to remember our family traditions, and I didn’t want to
worship a God who had heaped such misery upon me. I drifted back from the
mailbox turning over what was obviously my first Christmas card of the season
addressed to The doctors had stressed the importance of positive thinking in order for my body’s immune system to aid in treating my cancer, but how could I think positively when I looked at the world through a waterfall of constant tears? Nothing was as it should be"even my vision made things out of focus or doubled the images. My world had collapsed. When “ “Mom, that’s okay. I don’t feel much like having Christmas with Daddy gone anyway.” When I didn’t respond, she said, “Mom, are you okay? Something besides Daddy’s leaving is bothering you. I hear it in your voice.” The question made me realize the complete magnitude of my misery, and I broke down crying. Between gulps, I managed to get out, “Honey, I’ve been to the doctor, and he told me I’ve got ovarian cancer. You know how I feel about chemo and the horrors of the treatments. I’m opting out and going to live my life the best I can for as long as I can without the effects of chemo and radiation making me sicker.” “No, Mom, please . . . for me, please go through the treatments. I’ve lost Dad. I couldn’t bear losing you too.” All my fears of needles and throwing up melted with that plea from my daughter. She was right. I was being selfish and not thinking of her. Trouble was, even with the treatments, no one could guarantee me a long life. “ “Mom, call me Randgrith, my Asatru name. I’ll be strong enough for both of us. Please give yourself a chance.” “A chance at what? Crying all of the time because I’m so lonely and jealous?” Despite my words, I knew I had to
make an honest attempt to live, for her sake if nothing else. “Okay, you win.
I’ll do the chemo, I’m an Episcopalian and I don’t
believe in the Bible literally. At that moment, I didn’t believe in any part of
it. It was just a bunch of myths like the Viking myths of the Asatru or the
Greek and “Of course I will, Mom. Listen, I know things are going badly for you right now, but I have a big favor to ask of you?” “I can’t make any promises now,” I said, “but go on and ask me.” “On the twenty-second through the twenty-fourth of the month, a few of my friends from high school want to rent a cabin in the mountains and have a reunion. I can’t believe it’s been over a year since I graduated.” Was she was going to come home and then leave me alone? How could she? Then I remembered that she was young and living her life in spite of everything, even the news that I had cancer. A perpetual optimist, she probably figured that the treatments would actually cure me. I loved her enough not to dash all her hopes and ruin her holiday. “Okay, but make sure you won’t drink and drive. Stay at the cabin and party. Don’t get in a car with anyone drinking.” “God, Mom, I’m not sixteen. You know I’m responsible. Quit preaching to me.” With a quiver in my voice, I said, “Okay, you can go.” “I’m sorry I fussed at you, Mom. I know this has been hard on you, but please try to stop focusing on the negatives. Focus on what you have that many mothers would give anything to have"a daughter who loves you and respects you.” I realized she was right, and I
also realized the perfect way to show her how much I appreciated having a wonderful
daughter like her. I was a Christian, but “Thank you, Honey. When you get home for the holidays, I have a big surprise for you. I think you’re going to love it.” “Come on, Mom. I need some good news now. Tell me.” “Okay, baby. When you get here, we’re going to decorate and burn a Yule log on the Winter Solstice and do away with all that Christmas crap.” “Oh, Mom, you’re the best! Can I invite some of my Asatru friends over for the celebration?” “Sure. I love you, Randgrith, more than you will ever know.” “I love you too, Mom.” We never hung up the phone without saying we loved each another. Most Christians don’t know that
Yule Tidings are an old Viking tradition. I knew that these two things would
make this so much easier on Randgrith. She’d wanted to share her religion with
me, and now she could. Our holiday celebration would be more like a sumbel where there would be a lot of
bragging and gift giving to Since she didn't arrive until the
twentieth, we had a lot to prepare for the Yule celebration before the Winter
Solstice on the twenty-first. First, we had to find a log big enough to burn
for twelve hours. In the days of old, the log had to measure in size big enough
to burn for twelve days, not twelve hours. Second, we’d have to make the log
acceptable to This was her first visit home since her father had split. As she walked through the living room, I watched her freeze before going to her room to put away her things. I saw her shoulders shake and knew that seeing his recliner missing from the family room brought home the truth that he was indeed gone. Of course, this unleashed a new open faucet of tears from me. I think watching my daughter’s pain was worse than the pain I’d felt at losing him. “Randgrith, this is why we’ll not do Christmas ever again. I want to share your religion, but mainly I don’t want to endure mine and all the emptiness it now represents.” She turned to me and we held each other, each lost in our memories of her father"both good and bad. “Put your things in your room, then let’s go to the woods and get our log.” I worried that we’d not be able to drag the Yule log out of the woods, especially with both of us so defeated emotionally. Then I remembered: By damn, we were two strong women, weren’t we? We both vowed not to shed another tear over the man who’d deserted us. We got up, dressed in layers because it was cold outside, and we headed out. Inside the dusty barn that smelled of sweet hay and horse manure, we grabbed ropes, halters, nails and a hammer. We walked out into the cool, crisp air and trekked to the woods to look for the perfect log. Of course, our curious horses followed us, along with three dogs and our pot-bellied pig that thought he was a dog. Deep inside the woods, we spotted it, an omen that we were on the right track. Most fallen trees are long and thin, but this one answered the call of destiny. Obviously, the log used to be the trunk of a good-sized tree. It would definitely burn for twelve hours. However, we knew immediately that we would never be able to drag it to the house. Fortunately, we had horses. None
had ever dragged anything, so we worried that it would scare the horse and make
it think the big thing behind it was chasing it. We had to choose the horse
least likely to spook and try to run away. We settled on my black-and-white gaited gelding named Skywalker. The problem was, we had no harness and wondered if we could trust Skywalker not to hurt himself or us in the process of dragging the log to the utility patio. Also, how could we burn the log in our cozy fireplace since it was far too big and heavy for us to get it into the house? I bridled Skywalker, then we looked around for some makeshift way we could hook up the horse to the log. Between ropes, a hammer, a chain, and an old mule collar that had hung in our barn for years, we devised a way to pull the log. The plan was to use Skywalker’s love of food as the Skinnerian reward for taking one or two steps and pulling without lunging and taking off. By then, it was dusk and difficult for us to see, but maybe that would work in our favor. We caught the other horses and put them in the barn so they wouldn’t cause any problems over the feed we’d have in the bucket. I put the collar on Skywalker, and he acted indignant. He shook his head with his curly black mane flying, trying to sling it off. When I brought out a handful of sweet feed for Skywalker, he settled down. His prehensile lips felt like velvet to my touch. He was smart and seemed to know he had a mission, so he peacefully walked with us to the log. By a miracle, we managed to nail loops that we tied more rope to and tied the chain to the log so Skywalker could drag it. The log was so big that I had to
guide Skywalker with bit and bucket while Again, a handful of feed worked its magic on him. We spent a good thirty minutes taking two steps at a time as we convinced Skywalker that the huge monster behind him wouldn’t hurt him. Just as the stars came out, our hero dragged the log up onto the utility patio that held the trashcan, firewood bin, water hose and faucet. Even with the chill in the air, Skywalker
lathered between his hind legs from his exertion. I loved horses so much that the
scent of horse sweat was a comforting smell to me. Since When I finished, I walked by the giant log on my way inside and was so proud of what the three of us had done. Who needed a man in their lives"not us! Well, Skywalker was a male, so I guess we depended on one after all. While I built a fire in the
fireplace, The next morning, we woke up in a
merry mood to make the log acceptable to Next, we each put a photograph of
something important to us on the log as a symbol of our gift to Since the Winter Solstice celebrated the shortest day of the year, the ceremony we performed at dusk was a short one. “Hail to “Hail to “Hail to With each “hail” we took long
drinks of the Randgrith was grinning, bragging
and drinking more Gradually, the kids’ laughter
brought me out of my reverie. They all spent the night in the big, empty house,
and that did make me feel better. However, I felt there was something empty in
my life besides my broken heart, and I knew something was missing. Nothing
could satisfy me"not the Yule celebration, not even To our delight, the log was still
smoldering the next morning. While I had to do something to keep myself from falling into the abyss of depression. Out of desperation, I made up my mind to go to the Christmas Eve service at church and try to right things between God and myself. I wanted freedom from the weight of my own emptiness. The bells chimed to announce The priest gave the most touching
service on As I walked to the altar for
communion, I became cognizant of Immediately, warmth entered my heart. The hatred and bitterness miraculously disappeared. I literally felt God lift the burden of anger I carried, and I sensed my anxious face relaxing with a spirit of joy and love. His blessing gave me new hope. I wanted to live! Yes"I would fight my cancer with God’s help. I was at peace for the first time in months. I could hardly wait to tell As I walked out the church door, I looked at the babe lying in a manger on the church lawn. "Happy birthday, baby, " I whispered. "Happy birthday." © 2012 Delores JordanAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorDelores JordanMobile, ALAboutI'm the author of many short stories and had my short stories, essays, art, photography, and poems printed in literary magazines and anthologies. I love to write. I'm a member of two critique groups:.. more..Writing
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