My sister, Rosie, and I sent 3 bags of food to Puerto Rico in the wake of the hurricane. Below is a picture of the bags of food, along with my toes and the bottom third of our spinning stripper pole.
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| Giving away food. |
No, I don't mean "dance pole, used for exercising". I mean my sister was a stripper and it's for stripping exercises. I've used it too. It's for stripping. Some dancing is involved. Mostly the removal of clothing in a slow and sensual manner. Stripping.
We also sent 5 bags of clothing.
We're generous, right? Yes, we are.
Sort of.
You see, we had these clothes already in the hall ready to give away. They don't fit or, in my sister's case, are stained and she no longer wanted them. In my case, they were old hat from a time when I had just moved into this state, having fled the oppression of the South, and was finally allowed to buy clothing for myself. I've come to not really like what I bought. Back then it was fine, but now not so much.
As for the food, it was mostly leftover cans of stuff from the food bank that we have had sitting around for well over a year and had not eaten. A holy f*ck ton of kidney beans, cranberry sauce, tomatoes of all kinds, and boxes of pasta that a co-worker gave me but that I will honestly never eat now that I know how to make it from scratch.
I'd have sent bags and bags of pasta too if I had not already opened them and resealed them into jars and mylar bags.
You see, this was the remains of my emergency backstock. Herein lies the giving part, at least on my end:
I had been keeping this food around for emergencies. It's been sitting on my shelf waiting to be made into gooey baked pasta dishes, or hearty chilies, or as a random dressed up side. Eventually, it would all have been eaten. I collected and kept it all from a food bank in town that I stopped going to when I wound up with way more canned and jarred goods than I had room for on the shelves.
The problem arose when I moved into a place that was too small to hold all of this excess food AND store all of my other items. So I stopped going to the food bank and started just eating it. My grocery trips have been short and small on the budget because of how much flour, rice, beans, and canned meats I still had at home. I didn't eat a lot of fresh vegetables, but I almost always got fresh fruits.
Then it turns out I still wasn't going through it fast enough. My sister moved back in and took half the space that was already too small. So the food wound up in the drawers of my captain's bed, and on the shelves of my closet. Originally it had all been on the shelves of the guest closet (her room now) so it all had to move.
Going to sleep with 10 tins of tomatoe paste, 3 jars of cranberry sauce and 23 cans of kidney beans smiling down on you is as weird as having a toilet located 10 feet from your bed.
En suit bathrooms are a no-go for me in the future. It's too strange that the steam can only vent into your bedroom after you leave the shower. That much water has no business being that close to my bed, and the toilet (as mentioned) is far-far too close to me at all times.
Anyway.
I started planning to just get rid of the food by regifting it to co-workers. Occasionally someone brings some things, like the boxes of Roni in the pictures, and gives it away. My plan was to take a bag full of food to work and leave it there till it's all gone, and then bring another bag once it's empty.
The part of this that has anything to do with being a Hearth Witch is my connection to Hekate. Hekate is a Titan, not a Goddess, and She is the matron of the downtrodden. Those on the fringes of society who need help and usually arn't getting it. Homeless. Wanderers. Vagabonds. Oftentimes Me.
Years ago, after recieving a dream from Hekate, I came to an understanding that I should help those who need help more. I played around with the idea of a charity that I'd call 'Hekate's Hearth' where those exact people who live on the edges of society could come and get some help. Sometimes it would be a bed, sometimes food, sometimes an ear to listen. Nothing formal. Nothing official. Just a helping hand. Maybe even some repair work.
The idea is that there are not enough Pagan charities out there. Not ones that are actively pagan, who have a Matron they honor, and whose community and recipients know it's in honor of a non-patriarchal deity. Not in the same way as some charities are just named after or in honor of a deity, but who actually honor a deity, with an altar where people can leave offerings and everything.
Hekate is a deity who rules in the dark half of the year. Yes, She can rule anytime and is in all times, but She and Her dog like to be out when it's dark and thus They are associated with the dark half. That being said, this is the time of the year when people are instructed to be given anyway. I've never thought of pseudo-Christian holidays as instilling a sense of giving in anyone as they tend to be all about receiving, receiving, receiving.
Yet since the year of that dream, I am having more and more urges to donate and give to charity in the name of Hekate. To honor Her. To in some way make Her Hearth a thing that brings any type of warmth to those seeking light and shelter or any type from any type of cold. To spread the love and light around a bit.
To polish my corner of the world.
Or in this case Puerto Rico.
So while my sister may have been giving these bags of food to her office to put with the rest being shipped down, they were actually all from me and all in the name of Hekate and to honor Her as matron of those who are destitute and in need. The clothing was half hers, but the half that was mine was all in very wearable condition and most only 2-3 years old.
Today I honored Hekate by spreading the light and love of Her heart out around the world. May every can of beans light a will to rise above in all who consume it and may every skirt be worn to dance the joy of seeing the situation inprove every day.
In Hekate's honor,
Sesh
Priestess of the Hearth
