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God is very clear in his directives against the celebration of this Pagan holiday that Christians now universally celebrate as Christmas. God calls this an abomination! Christians who celebrate December 25th blindly believe they are honoring the birth of Jesus, when they are in reality honoring the Pagan god Tammuz.

In Jeremiah 10:1-4, we read:

"Hear ye the word which the Lord speaketh unto you, O house of Israel:

"Thus saith the Lord, Learn NOT the way of the heathen, and be NOT dismayed at the signs of heaven (the queen of heaven, Isis, worshiped by the heathen), for the heathen are dismayed at them.

"For the customs of the people are futile: for one cuts a tree out of the forest, the work of the hands of the workman, with the ax.

"They decorate it with silver and with gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers, that it move not."

There could be NO more specific description of a present-day Christmas than this. God says, “DON’T do it. This is Paganism!”

Don’t blame me, I didn’t write it! (God didn’t say that bit, that was me)

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'Twas that night before Yule

'Twas that night before Yule, when all 'cross the heath,
Not a being was stirring; Pagan, Faerie, nor Beast,

Wassail was left out and the altar adorned,
To rejoice that the Sun King would soon be reborn.

The children lay sleeping by the warmth of the hearth,
Their dreams filled with visions of beloved Mother Earth,

M’lady and I beneath blankets piled deep, had just settled
down to our Solstice sleep.

Then a noise in the night that would leave us no peace,
Awakened us both to the honking of geese.

Eager to see such a boisterous flock,
When we raced to the window, our mouths dropped in shock!

On the West Wind flew a gaggle of geese, white and gray,
With Frau Holda behind them in Her gift-laiden dray.

The figure on Her broomstick to the North sky made it clear,
La Befana was approaching to bestow Yuletide cheer.

From the South came a comet more bright than the Moon,
And we knew Lucia would be with us soon.

As these Spirits sailed Earthward o’er hilltops and trees,
Frau Holda serenaded Her feathery steeds:

"Fly Isolde! Fly Tristan! Fly Odin and Freya! Fly Morgaine!
Fly Merlin! Fly Uranus and Gaea!

May the God and Goddess inside you soar,
From the clouds in the heavens to your cottage door.”

As soft and silent as snowflakes they fell;
Their arrival announced by a faint chiming bell.

They landed like angels, their bodies aglow,
Their feet left no marks in the new fallen snow,

Before we could ponder what next lay in store,
There came a slow creeking from our threshold door.

We crept from our bedroom and were spellbound to see…
There in our parlor stood the Yule Trinity!

Lucia the Maiden, with Her head wreathed in flame,
Shown with the radiance for which she She was named,

The Lightbringers eyes held the joy of a child,
And she spoke with a voice that was gentle, yet wild:

"May the warmth of this household ne’er fade away."
Then she lit our Yule log which still burns to this day.

Frau Holda in Her down cloak stood regal and tall,
The Matron of Solstice, the Mother of all,

Under Her gaze we felt safe and secure.
Her voice was commanding, yet almost demure:

"May the love in this family enrich young and old."
And from the folds of Her cloak showered coins of pure gold,

LaBefana wore a kerchief on Her silvery hair;
The veil of the Crone who has secrets to share,

In Her eyes gleamed a wisdom only gained by spent youth.
Her voice was whisper, but Her words rung the truth:

"May health, glad tidings, and peace fill these rooms."
And she banished misfortune with a sweep of Her broom,

They then left a gift by each sleeping childs head,
Took a drink of our wassail, and away they all sped.

While we watched them fly off through the night sky we laughed,
At the wonderous magick we had found in the Craft.

As they departed, the Spirits decreed…

“Merry Yule To You All, And May All Blessed Be!”

 - Unknown (unfortunately)

How to make a traditional Wassail (Lambs Wool) for 12th Night

Before we start here is a bit of history:

From Medieval times the term Wassail referred to a hot spiced wine for drinking healths on Christmas Eve, New Year’s Eve, and Twelfth Night celebrations. It was said to have originated with the fifth-century legend of the beautiful Saxon Rowena, who toasted the health of the Brythonic King Vortigern with the words Wæs-hael(your health!). Mead was also used (and may generally have been a more common base for Wassail than the far more expensive wine). Wassail was always served from a special bowl called the Loving Cup by early monks. It was fashioned from sturdy materials, most commonly wood and more rarely pewter. The special wooden bowl, sometimes rimmed with metal and dressed with festive ribbons, was not only the serving bowl but also the drinking bowl, as it was passed from hand to hand and drunk from directly.


  • 3l ale (India pale ale is good but porter also works well)
  • 12 small apples (crab apples for the traditional recipe, but lady apples also work)
  • 3 tbsp honey
  • ¼ tsp freshly-ground nutmeg
  • ¼ tsp powdered cinnamon
  • 2 tsp freshly-grated ginger


Bake the apples in a hot oven until they begin to split. Divide your ale between two pots. Place about ¾ in one pot and heat this gently until warm. Place the remainder in a second pot (which must be able to hold all the liquid), add the apples, honey and spices to this and bring to the boil. Now pour the warmed ale into this and turn off the heat. Keep pouring the heated ale between the two pots until a large amount of froth has accumulated on the top (this is the Lamb’s Wool). Pour into a heated bowl and gather your guests around to drink.

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