The Wiccan Rede

Bide the Wiccan Laws we must In Perfect Love and Perfect Trust. Live and let live. Fairly take and fairly give. Cast the Circle thrice about To keep the evil spirits out. To bind the spell every time Let the spell be spake in rhyme. Soft of eye and light of touch, Speak little, listen much. Deosil go by the waxing moon, Chanting out the Witches' Rune. Widdershins go by the waning moon, Chanting out the baneful rune. When the Lady's moon is new, Kiss the hand to her, times two. When the moon rides at her peak, Then your heart's desire seek, Heed the North wind's mighty gale, Lock the door and drop the sail. When the wind comes from the South, Love will kiss thee on the mouth. When the wind blows from the West, Departed souls will have no rest. When the wind blows from the East, Expect the new and set the feast. Nine woods in the cauldron go, Burn them fast and burn them slow. Elder be the Lady's tree, Burn it not or cursed you'll be. When the Wheel begins to turn, Let the Beltane fires burn. When the Wheel has turned to Yule, Light the log and the Horned One rules. Heed ye Flower, Bush and Tree, By the Lady, blessed be. Where the rippling waters go, Cast a stone and truth you'll know. When ye have a true need, Hearken not to others' greed. With a fool no season spend, Lest ye be counted as his friend. Merry meet and merry part, Bright the cheeks and warm the heart. Mind the Threefold Law you should, Three times bad and three times good. When misfortune is enow, Wear the blue star on thy brow. True in Love ever be, Lest thy lover's false to thee. Eight words the Wiccan Rede fulfill: An ye harm none, do what ye will.
- Blessed Be -
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Saturday, November 20, 2010

It's a gift

This is great, take a moment to read it, it will make your day! The ending will surprise you.
A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had
everything in their collection, from Picassoto Raphael. They would often sit
together and admire the great works of art..

When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son. About a month later, just before Christmas, There was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands..

He said, 'Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly... He often talked about you, and your love for art.'

The young man held out this package. 'I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.' The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture..'Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift.'
The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected. The man died a few months later.

There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection. On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. 'We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?'

There was silence... Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, 'We want to see the famous paintings. skip this one.' But the auctioneer persisted. 'Will somebody bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?' Another voice angrily. 'We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Gogh's, the Rembrandts. Get on with the Real bids!' But still the auctioneer continued. 'The son! The son! Who'll take the son?'

Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. 'I'll give $10 for the painting...' Being a poor man, it was all he could afford. 'We have $10, who will bid $20?' 'Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters.' The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son. They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.

The auctioneer pounded the gavel.. 'Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!' A man sitting on the second row shouted, 'Now let's get on with the collection!' The auctioneer laid down his gavel. 'I'm sorry, the auction is over.'

'What about the paintings? ' 'I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will... I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings. The man who took the son gets everything!'
God gave His son 2,000 years ago to die on the cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message is still the same today is: 'The son, the son, who'll take the son?' Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything.



May Yeshua  Bless you, Love you and Pour his Abundant Grace and Mercy on you today.

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