Keeping the old ways in modern times.
Alone in her darkened room, she waits. A fire burning in the earth, she watches the flames as they dance and spark. Everything else is quiet. her children sleep in their beds. She revels for a moment in the quiet. the stillness. her vigil through the night is long.
A faint light begins to filter into the room, reaching from the windows behind her. She rises and makes her way outside. Yes, it is there. She sees it. A shaft of glimmering light is peeking up over the horizon, sleepy from its long night of darkness too.
A new dawn is breaking. And with it, the hope of new life returning. She smiles to herself. Winter is broken. The sun has returned as promised.
What happens next? Perhaps she returns to her kitchen and puts the kettle on. Perhaps she gently rouses her children to the new day with kisses upon their foreheads. perhaps she quickly hops in the shower and speeds off to work. Whichever scenario is hers, she filled the role of midwife to the returning sun.
This is an age-old story, as traditional as the winter solstice, the longest night of the year itself. A scene, quietly waiting in darkness through the night, generations of men, women, and families have done on this night. A practice that continues today.
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