The Three Ladies
By Colleen M. Criswell

For
Delaney, may you grow in the light of the Goddess

"Tell me about the ladies again" Celeste climbs in her mother's lap.
"Again?" asked her mother, "I have told you the story so many times."
"Please, mama," Celeste asked.
"Ok," said her mother, brushing the hair from her wee ones eyes, "why don't we say it together?"

"First comes the Maiden.  She is pure as snow.  She glides with the grace of the clouds.  She is a curious one, fair and lovely.  She comes to us with the newness and joy of the world.  She asks questions and lives her life to the fullest.  She is white," and they light the white candle.

"Next comes the Mother.  She is the giver of life.  She holds the knowledge of life in her hand.  She know the ways of the world.  She still has questions, but knows most answers.  Her hair and face may not be as fair as they once were, but her eyes and spirit is still as young and loving. She is red," and they light the red candle.

"Last comes the Crone.  The wisest of all.  She has seen it all come and go.  Tired and withered are her hair and face, but her eyes shine with the knowledge of the Maiden and Mother.  She holds the secrets of death and the future in her.  She is kind and graceful and loving. She is black," and they light the black candle.

"These three ladies, Maiden, Mother, Crone, represented on my altar here, may you guide me and show me the way as I become each of the three.  Goddess bless, So mote it be!"