The Story of the Yule Log, A Myth

THE STORY OF THE YULE LOG, A MYTH

Long, long ago, when our people could remember the days when Mother Earth never lost her blanket of snow and ice, we were more connected to her than we are now. We had no computers, no cell phones, no airplanes or radios, no cars or microwave ovens. This was in the days before the fall of the Roman Empire, before the legend of King Arthur.

These were the days when everything we wore, and everything we ate, and all that we used to shelter ourselves was gathered with our hands, made with our hands, or killed with our hands.

In those days we depended upon each other as a community, not just for the pleasure of social activities but also for our survival. Everyone in our community contributed for the benefit of the whole. If one in our group was sick, we pitched in and helped him until he was well, knowing that one day he might do the same for one of us. We protected one another, watched out for each other, and shared with one another.

Every spring, the new green shoots came out, and the new baby animals were born, and these things meant our survival. As the days grew longer and warmer, and Father Sun grew brighter, the green things matured and the fruit ripened. Gradually, the plants began to die as the days grew shorter and the nights longer and cooler. We gathered what we could of the last of the plants and stored them for the long, dangerous days ahead. Soon, Father Sun began to seem weaker and farther away, and we knew that he was dying as he did every year. The days became short and the nights long and cold. This was the time of year that those of us who were sick, old, or weak were the most likely to die. We clung to one another, depending on each other for survival more than ever.

We knew that after Father Sun died, Mother Earth would deliver us a newborn baby Sun. Gradually our Sun King would grow stronger and brighter, until the days were longer and warmer again, and once again the new green shoots would return.

But some of us were fearful. We had seen some of the women among us die in childbirth, and we saw babies born dead, or worse, born weak and destined to die shortly after birth. Some of our winters were very harsh and spring was late. A weak baby Sun could make survival difficult.

Fortunately, there were Wise Ones among us. Our Wise Ones understood many things that were mysterious to the rest of us. They could help women in childbirth and predict the weather. They could brew medicines that would help us when we were sick and weak. They engraved strange symbols on rock and wood, and only they understood what these symbols meant.

So we went to our Wise Ones, and we requested they help us help Mother Earth bring the newborn baby Sun into our world. We told them of our concerns, and they agreed to help.

They said we should build a huge fire, the greatest fire Mother Earth has ever seen. The fire would melt the snow and ice, and help our Mother with what she had to do. We would tend the fire all night and day, until Mother Earth brings the baby Sun into the world.

Our Wise Ones were indeed wise. They knew that we had to give up something to get something, and that asking for something was the first step toward receiving it. So they showed us how to throw grain into the fire, in order to ask for a year of abundance. They looked into the flames and saw the future of our group. As we danced around the fire, we rejoiced, because the warmth of the fire felt like the warmth of Father Sun, and this gave us hope.

For twelve days and nights we tended the fire, and on the twelfth day, the newborn Baby Sun rose. And again we rejoiced and sang. Soon our Sun King grew strong and warm, and as Mother Earth grew warmer the green plants began to grow. After that, we burned the Yule fire each year at Midwinter.

For many thousands of years, we celebrated the Yule fire. As time passed, we learned to grow crops and raise livestock, so we no longer depended so much on the hunt and on gathering. Our dependence on each other became less pronounced, less essential. But we continued to burn the Yule fire each year. Because we retained a sense of community, the Yule log had to be a gift from a neighbor not bought or sold, or else it was not lucky. And because we appreciated the sacrifice of the Yule fire, when the Yule log was brought into the house, it was sprinkled with our finest meade or ale, as we would give an honored guest. We adorned it with evergreens, because the evergreen symbolized eternal life. And we kept a piece of it from the fire, to bring good luck to the house throughout the year. Because we valued the passing of tradition to each new generation, we used the piece from the previous year to light the next year's fire.

Gradually, there were changes over the years, and we were encouraged to discard our old ways for new. And when many of us came to the New World, we left our old ways behind. Later, modern technology separated us further from our old ways and our Mother Earth. For some, today's Yule log is nothing more than a chocolate pastry, rolled and decorated to look like a piece of wood. They eat the
pastry but they don't remember its significance.

But, we remember. We remember.