The flames raged violently skyward. I had kindled a big fire, here by my
lake, on that special night, and they had come to celebrate together, all the
special women. They did not ride on brooms, and there were no black ravens or
black cats on their shoulders. But the animals had joined us, lying by the fire
and feeling well. No, it was not wild and ecstatic dancing around the fire. The
women sat or stood around the fire. They talked. Now and then you could hear a
laugh. From time to time, a song was sung, and the meaning of the common band
lay around us like an invisible bond, without constricting, just connecting.
No, they were not all red-haired, but as different as women are, and yet they
were similar in many ways.
It is the woman who sits down with you when you are lonely and gives you a
word or even a common silence, but in the mere presence of you, frees you from
deep loneliness.
It is the woman who listens to your story and
helps you to understand, who does not point the way, but still helps you to
find him.
It is the woman who takes your hand and helps you
when you fall and you cannot get up.
It is the woman who cares for your wounds, the
outer ones, like the inner ones that make you whole and healthy.
It is the woman who shows you the light again in
the deepest darkness.
It is the woman who gives you warmth and hope in
the bitterest cold.
It is the woman who accepts you, in all your
imperfection and inadequacy.
It is the woman who welcomes you and allows you to
be near, until you are ready to go out into the world again.
It is the woman who carries, supports and
strengthens you.
It is the woman who does not value and does not
punish, but leads you out of the confines of a supposed guilt and back to your
possibilities.
It is the woman who, in her affection, is able to
open her eyes to the essential.
It is the woman who can make life seem new to you
in a single word, a gesture, a touch.
And when you go away from her, you forget what she
has done for you, until you need her again, until she will be there for you
again. You know that she will be there for you no matter how far you are from
her, no matter how much time passes, she is there for you.
It does not count as long as you’re fine. Maybe
you are a little bit ashamed sometimes when you think that you needed her help.
Maybe you’re trying to erase that thought from your head. It was nothing more
than a moment of weakness in which you let yourself be helped, in which you
meant to depend on her, but now that you were well again, now you could not
understand that it existed, this moment of weakness and openness. You are
strong and independent. Never again would something like that happen to you.
Never again would you depend on her or anyone else.
They talked quietly, the women, around the fire,
and they knew how to help their powers and their possibilities. You would come
back and she would be there for you.
