Witch, Please: A Memoir

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Misty Bell Stiers. Witch, Please: A Memoir

Everyone Deserves the Chance to Fly

Introduction

That’s Me in the Corner

How I Became Wiccan

A Little Faith and a Lot of Heart

What Wicca Is ... and Isn’t

Punishment and Reward

Seeking Forgiveness

A Restless Spirit on an Endless Flight

Discovering My Identity as a Witch

That’s the Power Makes the World Go Round

Marriage and Wicca

I Light a Candle Then I Call Your Name

The Gods and Goddesses, Symbols, and Tools of Wicca

Reaching for the Stars

Holy Trinities of the Witchy Kind

The Tools of the Trade

I Put a Spell on You

The Truth about Spells and Curses

Ever After

Charmed

A Wish Your Heart Makes

Big Wheel. Keep on Turnin’

Living the Day-to-Day as a Witch

These Are the Days of Miracle and Wonder

Raising My Children Wiccan (Not Wicked)

And We’ll Dance by the Light of the Moon

Samhain

Roasted Garlic Rosemary Bread

Bell-Stiers Beef Stew

Yule (Winter Solstice)

Dearest Samaire,

Cinnamon Rolls

Dough

Filling

Glaze

Imbolc

Samaire and Daddy’s Golden Banana Bread

Ostara, or Eostera (Spring Equinox)

Springtime Risotto

Beltane

Judy’s Shrimp Étouffée

Litha (Summer Solstice)

Chocolate Pudding Cake

Lammas (or Lughnasadh)

Lammas Bread

Mabon (Autumn Equinox)

Spaghetti Sauce

Chasing the Sun

Living My Faith in Times of Crisis

Oh Oh Oh It’s Magic

Afterword

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We stood there on the overlook, staring out at the endless stars reflected in the glacial lake below. I had never seen so many. The Milky Way tore across the sky over the miles of forest that surrounded us. The silence enveloping us wasn’t silence at all but myriad sighs and whispers that spoke of an abundance of life just out of sight. It truly felt, for that moment, as if nowhere else in the world existed—as if no one else in the world existed. There was only us, and the magnificence of what surrounded us.

It had taken time to get here. I had first met Sam just four years prior, despite the fact that I had grown up around a good deal of his family and he already knew most of my friends. Over the years, these friends had tried to set him up with pretty much every last one of their single friends but me, convinced Sam and I could never possibly get along. (We also lived in different cities for a long time, so I can perhaps forgive them for skipping over me in their matchmaking campaigns.) And truthfully, their assumptions about our possibly incompatible natures weren’t too far off the mark. We had a few fiery conversations right at the beginning . . . but they seemed to always drift on into the wee hours once we laid down our verbal weapons and started to really get to know each other. We spent many a night lost in conversation standing next to our cars, stars fading above us as the sun snuck over the horizon.

.....

Um, no.

I was looking for a spiritual path—I was not looking for a Goth makeover. I immediately put the book down. She insisted I take it, assuring me it was right up my alley—all about that “what-makes-the-world-spin mumbo jumbo.” She pointed out that at the very least I would discover what paganism was all about; I might as well round out my research. So out of reluctant curiosity and, truthfully, being too lazy to continue finding reasons not to, I caved and brought the book home with me. In the midst of a fit of insomnia weeks later, I cracked it open.

.....