Someone, and I'm old so I forget who, once called Sunday morning the most-segregated time of the week. They were referring to the fact that those "see-those-xians-how -they-love-one -another xians" didn't love each other enough to, you know, worship what Obama is pleased to call "a mighty god" in integrated company. Maybe that's changed or maybe xians still prefer their churches racially segregated.
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."