I originally intended to include this in the original candle making post but once I started writing that post took a different direction. So consider this Part II.
Holding the cool bricks of beeswax in my hand, I mulled over the idea of getting involved with a project that could potentially take hours to complete, with no opportunities for an easy out should some little person decide a different course for the day. I took a deep wiff and thought about what my goal was for the project, what was I hoping the kids would take away?
The idea to create something for the children to use in their bedtime routine was necessary because we were about to shake things up a bit. Our oldest little is particularly adverse to change, and I was wanting to tamper the impending upheaval. We had already begun preparing her for the transition only to be met with pouts, grunts, and feet stomping. Having recently finished Donna Simmon's Kindergarten with your Three to Six Year Old, I was reflecting on the need to speak less and do more. Children get overwhelmed trying to process our heady verbal directions. At this age, our littles are not thinking with their heads just yet. Right now they are exploring with their bodies. They require something that stimulates their senses and keeps their souls connected to the here and now. So instead of pontificating on the new order of events ad nasuem, we needed to create a symbol of the change, a physical reminder, something tangible that she could take into her senses. Together the kids and I would need to form a spiritual vessel that would carry them peacefully through the night.
I first thought of creating a candleholder, which would then be used only to read by at bedtime. I handed the children a sheet of deep purple tissue paper for the dark night and sparkled white paper for the flickering stars and told them to rip it into smaller pieces. I then watered down some white glue and pulled out the foam brushes. I had the littles brush glue onto a vase, and cover it randomly with purple or white paper.
I soon saw how taken they were with the project, and thought about how delighted they would be to be able to light a candle of their own making that evening.
I thought about what sort of an experience they would be taking into their being while making dip candles, and then being able to call upon it later during the stressful evening.
I thought about their dimpled, red cheeks grinning as they stood over the sweet warm wax, singing songs about the light within us all.
Just then, I was reminded about the approach of Imbolc, the day of the Goddess Brigit; a goddess associated with fire and healing.
I quickly threw the wax bricks into a half gallon canning jar that I then placed into a large pot of water and put it all on the stove to boil.
I covered the table with paper. I gathered a wad of hemp, a dowel, and two boxes to prop the dowel between. This would be where our candles hung to cool. The littlest little (!) used the scissors to help me cut six strands of hemp that were twice the length of our jar.
Meanwhile, the big littles soon had the gaps on the candleholder filled, and we set it aside to dry. I cleaned up their space and got them snack as we waited for the wax to melt. Our kitchen was so warm and sweet smelling.
I pulled out a story about the Goddess Brigit and the light that we all carry inside, and began reading it to children while I dipped the ends of the hemp into the warm wax for the first time. After their quick dip, I laid them onto a cutting board. Once the hemp strands cooled I rolled them out on the cutting board and pulled them straight. Then I straddled them over the dowel and got the kids situated near the jar of melted wax.
The children were shown how to dip the hemp strands into the jar; they had to go all the way in and all the way out, three times. The big littles took turns dipping the strands and then handing it back to me to place on the dowel. By the time the last strand on the dowel was dipped, the first was cool enough to dip again. The children soon learned that it was important to dip quickly. If the stands were left in for too long, they would come out naked!
Once we got into a groove, we watched our candles grow very quickly, taking breaks to go play nearby once the jar grew opaque and I placed it back on the stove to cool.
We sang, we discussed the story of Brigit, we put our hands around the warm jar.
As the candles grew we took turns rolling them out on the cutting board to get rid of the lumps and curves. I took a knife and cut off little candle nipples that were forming on the bottoms. The littlest little especially enjoyed gathering up these smooth wax pieces, and squeezing between brother and sister to drop them back into the jar.
I didn't expect the kids to be so taken with the task but they returned each time I announced that the wax had melted again. It took us about one and one half hour to complete the dipping.
That evening, once Daddy was home, we chose a candle, cut its wick down to size, and put it in its bedtime spot to wait.
That evening while Daddy sang the same songs of light and strength that had been sung earlier, he lit the candle allowing the smell of beeswax to permeate the room. As if the memory had been infused within the layers of wax, the children's inner strength and light was reborn as the candle burned. Using the candle as a prop, we were able to call upon the nurturing experiences of the afternoon, and we tapped into the inner light of the littles to carry them through this difficult transition.
