Why There Are Evergreens

Long ago, when the world was still young and the Wheel of the Year had only just been set to turning, every tree in the Goddess's endless forest would begin shedding their canopy at the onset of autumn. By winter's arrival, Her realm would be a stark landscape of skeletal branches and bare trunks. Nothing green would be seen again until the Wheel turned toward Eostara.

Hallows was coming to the land, the beginning of the Dark Time of the year. While the Goddess prepared for Her annual journey to the Underworld, Her Devas -- the spirits that lived in the plants of Her realm -- began bedding down and turning inward. They would be bereft of Her presence until Her return at Candlemas. Not all of Her children would survive the cold dark to come, but this too was part of the Great Cycle. Those Devas who perished in the dark would become food for the youngest Devas when She returned.

In the quieting of the world, the Goddess surveyed Her land. Her Devas were not the only ones who slept through the Dark Times: many of Pan's woodland children chose this time to hibernate as well, having fattened themselves through the waning summer and all of autumn. But the Goddess came upon a squirrel who was not asleep. Rather, he was wringing his little paws and looking altogether distressed.

"What is the matter, child?" the Goddess asked, gently picking him up.

The squirrel looked up at Her with tears in his little brown eyes. When he answered Her, his voice was plaintive.

"Oh, Mother, why must You go?"

The Goddess smiled reassuringly. "It is the way of things, little one." She explained. "I go to the Underworld so that the Light can return."

"But why can it not always be Light?" asked the squirrel.

"Because there must be balance for life to thrive." the Goddess said. "There are lessons you can only learn in the Dark, and lessons you can only learn in the Light. If it were always one way or the other, it would be the end of all things."

The little squirrel continued to wring his paws. "But what if You don't come back?" he asked in his smallest voice. "Father is gone already, and if You don't come back He won't, either. Without you, the Devas won't wake and there'll be no food. We'll starve."

"I will always come back to My children," the Goddess promised. "I love you all -- I would never abandon you."

The squirrel nodded, still wringing his paws. "I know," he sighed quietly. "But when the Wheel turns to the Dark Times, it's hard to remember the Light. It's hard to remember the warmth of spring when the ground is frozen and there's little food to eat."

The Goddess, in the infinite compassion of motherhood, was compelled to ease Her child's fear. She carried him to the nearest tree and, placing Her hand upon its trunk, called forth the Deva within. The Deva stepped out of the tree as a Dryad, a physical manifestation of the tree's spirit. She had smooth, silver skin and golden leaves for hair.

"Greetings, Mother," she said with a warm smile. Her voice sighed like springtime breeze through flowering branches.

"The Wheel has turned, My Daughter, and the Dark Times come once more. Many of My children do not sleep through the winter and are afraid -- I wish to provide for them while I am gone."

>The Dryad bowed to the Goddess and said, "Tell me how I may be of service, Mother."

"When I descend into the Underworld I will leave behind a promise for all My children who remain awake through the Dark Time; a promise they can see, and so take heart in the knowledge that I will return to them."

As the Goddess spoke, the Dryad changed: her smooth silver skin darkened and roughened; her hair deepened to a green more lush than new grass and stiffened into spiky needles. The Dryad transformed into the first evergreen tree. Whereas other trees dropped their leaves in the autumn, she would retain her foliage, remaining green through even the harshest winters. The evergreen would be a haven for those animals that remained active through the Dark Time, providing shelter and food so they would not starve. Through the evergreen, they would remember the promised bounty of spring.

The Goddess charged her Daughter to go throughout the land and choose other Devas to embody Her new promise. This is how evergreen trees came to be. From that day forward, the squirrel had only to look upon the evergreen in which he made his new home to remember Her promise: that the Light would always return, no matter how deep the Dark, no matter how cold the ground.