Christmas Story

Okay, here’s my Christmas story:

   Every year we have the unofficial Christmas decorating race on our street. Whoever puts up lights first starts it off, and it goes on until every house is resplendent.  My efforts usually involve a decorated, lighted wreath and strings of lights around the door, all of it pretty simple, but enough to be included in the neighborhood holiday spirit. Most of our neighbors are Catholics, and St. Peter’s is right down the street, so it gets VERY Christmassy around here.

   Except that I’m Wiccan, so one year, not too long ago, I decided I needed a symbol of my own to display. In Wicca, we have a pentacle, which is essentially a five-pointed star inside a circle. The points of the star represent Earth, Air, Fire, Water and Spirit. I made a pentacle out of lights and hung it in the window of our house. The lady from across the street, who was a pillar of the church, came by to admire our decorations.

   “Oh,” she said. “Something new! What a lovely Star of Bethlehem! Where did you get it?”

   “Why, thank you,” I responded. “I made it myself. Would you like me to make one for you?”

   Her eyes lit up.

   “Oh, would you?”

   Of course I would and I did, and she hung it in her front window every year at Christmas.  To her, it was a Star of Bethlehem. To me, it’s a symbol of my Pagan faith.

Something for everybody. I like that.

Happy Holidays.