Moon White: Color Me Enchanted with Bonus Content by Melody Carlson Page B
Authors: Melody Carlson
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glass of orange juice. “You guys have fun though.”
It’s actually a relief to see my dad doing something just for the fun of it. Lately, he’s been such a workaholic that I’m almost getting worried. After they leave and the house is extra quiet, I sit by the kitchen window, gazing out at the gray cloudy day. It looks just about how I feel, dismal and bleak. I know this is the wrong attitude. I can’t give in to despair over the way things went last night. It’s not the end of anything. I can’t give up that easily. And yet I feel so hopeless. And lonely too. Sometimes I think Sunday is the loneliest day of the week.
There was a time when I went to church with Lucy on Sundays. Not every week, but sometimes. Enough so that people at her church seemed to think I was a Christian. But the truth is, I never felt like I really fit in. And last year I only went a handful of times. I can’t even imagine going there now — or what Pastor Hamilton would think of me if he knew what I was into. I shove those unhappy thoughtsaway. I don’t need that kind of negative energy right now. I should try to be around like-minded people, people who are willing to go outside the box and think for themselves.
I consider driving over to The Crystal Dragon and asking Willow for something special to help me through this challenge. But I have a feeling she’d tell me that I need to dig deeper within myself. And I suppose she’d be right. I probably just need to read some more, study some more, and record my thoughts in my Book of Shadows. I guess I just need more discipline. And so I commit myself to a day of discipline and ritual and learning. The power is within my reach. I just need to focus and learn how to access it and how to use it better.
I go down to the basement, but it feels as if something is wrong with the aura down here. Sure, it’s okay for ballet, but I have a feeling that something about this room is not balanced quite right when it comes to magic. I think I need a place that’s higher, loftier, closer to the sky and the constellations. So I carry all my tools and things up to my room, but then I don’t think this is quite right either. Finally, I remember how much I enjoyed playing in the attic one particularly wet winter. Mom let me clear a place that was about ten feet square to use for my “special space,” and it was quiet and serene and peaceful up there.
I decide to go up and see if Augustine has taken over the attic, and to my surprise my little clearing in the back is still there. Surrounded by the walls of boxes that Mom helped me stack is a wonderful secret place. Even the old pole lamp is still there, and it works. This secluded spot feels perfect. Well, other than some dust bunnies and spider webs, which I take care of. It takes three trips to haul everything up there, and it’s not long until I have it all arranged and it looks really cool. Not only that, but it feels better. Itfeels right. I’ve placed an old Oriental carpet on the floor under my toy chest, which I covered with the altar cloth. On top of that is my statue of Isis and some candles and several of my favorite fairy figurines and other things. I light some candles and incense and move an old rocking chair near the pole lamp. Then I sit down and read for a while. Then I write for a while. And slowly yet surely, things start to make sense again.
There is a definite reason they call this religion a craft or a practice. I can see that it requires time and skill and learning and discipline. Today I focus on the Rule of Three. It’s an ancient Wicca law that means whatever you do will be returned to you threefold. If you do good, you will receive three times as much good back. If you do evil, well, watch out! Of course, I’m trying to think of ways I can apply this principle to get Hudson back, since I’m fairly sure that I’m losing him. But other than making a new love potion, which I may or may not do, I have no ideas. And I have a
It’s actually a relief to see my dad doing something just for the fun of it. Lately, he’s been such a workaholic that I’m almost getting worried. After they leave and the house is extra quiet, I sit by the kitchen window, gazing out at the gray cloudy day. It looks just about how I feel, dismal and bleak. I know this is the wrong attitude. I can’t give in to despair over the way things went last night. It’s not the end of anything. I can’t give up that easily. And yet I feel so hopeless. And lonely too. Sometimes I think Sunday is the loneliest day of the week.
There was a time when I went to church with Lucy on Sundays. Not every week, but sometimes. Enough so that people at her church seemed to think I was a Christian. But the truth is, I never felt like I really fit in. And last year I only went a handful of times. I can’t even imagine going there now — or what Pastor Hamilton would think of me if he knew what I was into. I shove those unhappy thoughtsaway. I don’t need that kind of negative energy right now. I should try to be around like-minded people, people who are willing to go outside the box and think for themselves.
I consider driving over to The Crystal Dragon and asking Willow for something special to help me through this challenge. But I have a feeling she’d tell me that I need to dig deeper within myself. And I suppose she’d be right. I probably just need to read some more, study some more, and record my thoughts in my Book of Shadows. I guess I just need more discipline. And so I commit myself to a day of discipline and ritual and learning. The power is within my reach. I just need to focus and learn how to access it and how to use it better.
I go down to the basement, but it feels as if something is wrong with the aura down here. Sure, it’s okay for ballet, but I have a feeling that something about this room is not balanced quite right when it comes to magic. I think I need a place that’s higher, loftier, closer to the sky and the constellations. So I carry all my tools and things up to my room, but then I don’t think this is quite right either. Finally, I remember how much I enjoyed playing in the attic one particularly wet winter. Mom let me clear a place that was about ten feet square to use for my “special space,” and it was quiet and serene and peaceful up there.
I decide to go up and see if Augustine has taken over the attic, and to my surprise my little clearing in the back is still there. Surrounded by the walls of boxes that Mom helped me stack is a wonderful secret place. Even the old pole lamp is still there, and it works. This secluded spot feels perfect. Well, other than some dust bunnies and spider webs, which I take care of. It takes three trips to haul everything up there, and it’s not long until I have it all arranged and it looks really cool. Not only that, but it feels better. Itfeels right. I’ve placed an old Oriental carpet on the floor under my toy chest, which I covered with the altar cloth. On top of that is my statue of Isis and some candles and several of my favorite fairy figurines and other things. I light some candles and incense and move an old rocking chair near the pole lamp. Then I sit down and read for a while. Then I write for a while. And slowly yet surely, things start to make sense again.
There is a definite reason they call this religion a craft or a practice. I can see that it requires time and skill and learning and discipline. Today I focus on the Rule of Three. It’s an ancient Wicca law that means whatever you do will be returned to you threefold. If you do good, you will receive three times as much good back. If you do evil, well, watch out! Of course, I’m trying to think of ways I can apply this principle to get Hudson back, since I’m fairly sure that I’m losing him. But other than making a new love potion, which I may or may not do, I have no ideas. And I have a
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