The long-awaited Winter Break has finally arrived, but Ronan
and Croia, 12-year-old twins, find themselves struggling instead of cheering.
There is a new kid at school whose cruelty has left deep wounds.
Ronan’s protective instinct towards Croia clashes with his
own confusion about what it means to stand up and defend, to fight, or to walk
away. On the longest, darkest night of the year, Croia and Ronan’s beloved
Irish grandmother, with her gentle insight and patient heart, helps Ronan
through the dark storm of his emotions and prepares a special evening for all.
Surrounded by his family—Croia and their new sister, their
mother and her new husband—Ronan’s strength and inner peace is tested when an
unanticipated guest arrives. Throughout the evening Grandmother continues to
help and guide. She weaves stories with strands of folklore and threads of old
beliefs, spinning them together, bringing the ancient to the present. While
immersed in the traditions of the Celtic holiday of Yule, Ronan learns what it
is to see past the darkness.
Come feel the warmth of the hearth and the power of wisdom.
Join the journey of the ages through the cold of winter, beyond the shadows of
darkness to what comes after and celebrate Yule.
Ronan
squeezed his hands tight and looked out the window. He took a few deep breaths,
trying to calm his mind, but he just couldn’t. The anger kept building.
Out the window and beyond, into the
fields beside his house, snow was falling, that glorious, amazing December,
winter break snow. He could see deer walking gracefully along the fence line.
In his yard, the tall cottonwood trees stood stately and quiet, their bare
black limbs stretching up into the grey-white sky. Huge flakes, perfect flakes,
fell easy and gently to cover the ground with another layer of fresh powder.
Normally, he would be out there in
it, racing around, laughing, and chasing his sister, Croia, and coaxing Kenna,
their new sister, to come play. But not today. And not any day since the first
snow.
Around him at the table, he could
hear Croia and Kenna chatter with their grandmother, Brighid, who had come from
Ireland to spend the year with their family. They were laughing and telling
each other about their school day as they sipped their tea.
After-school tea had become an
instant tradition when Grandmother arrived in October. Every day, she made some
amazing treat and brewed a pot of hot Irish tea, all ready to be enjoyed when
the three got home from school.
But Ronan couldn’t bring himself to enjoy today’s raspberry
teacake, normally one of his favorites. It just felt like sand in his mouth.
The tea was too bitter, and no matter how much sugar and cream he added, he
couldn’t get it right. So, he set his teacup down and looked out the window.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Ronan heard his grandmother’s quiet
voice ask. He looked around and was surprised to see Kenna and Croia gone and
the table cleared. He glanced over and saw Grandmother’s kind eyes watching
him, waiting. Right then, he wanted to jump out of his chair and scramble into
her arms like he’d done when he was little. He knew if he did, she would hug
him and hold him, and everything would be alright.
But he wasn’t little anymore. In a
year, he’d be in high school. He was supposed to be a man. Whatever the hell
that meant. He blushed at the use of the word, feeling sheepish that he’d say
such a thing in front of his grandmother, even if it was in his own mind, and
she couldn’t hear him.
But what the hell did it
mean? He couldn’t even properly defend his own twin sister. She cried and ran
to him for help, and all he did was put his arm around her and help her walk
away. All he did, as that new kid hurled insults and mockery after them, was
walk beside her and help her get in the car with Kenna. All he did was hold
Croia’s hand in the backseat as tears streaked down her face as Kenna drove
them home. Every day this week, that’s all he did. Which is different than what
he wanted to do.
He
wanted to punch the guy’s lights out, knock him flat for making his sister cry.
He knew he could do it. He was strong. He even spent time thinking about how
he’d make a fist, draw his arm back, and pow—hit him right across his mean
face.
“I don’t know, Grandmother.” Ronan scrubbed his hands
together and wiped his hair back.
“Okay.” Grandmother patted his hand. “I am here.” She picked
up her teacup and took a sip.
“I am so angry!” Ronan blurted. “There’s this new kid at
school, and he’s super mean. He’s made Croia cry every day this week. He’s in a
couple of our classes, and he says snide things there too.”
Grandmother set her tea down and leaned forward in her
chair.
Bonus Author
Giveaway!
Celebrate the spirit and magic of Yule with Whitney Morgan
Media! In the spirit of the season, they’re giving every participant a
prize—including chances to win an autographed copy of Celebrating Yule:
The Celtic Wheel of the Year Series – Book 2 and exclusive author swag
from Rionna Morgan!
Enter here: https://deformity.ai/d/GdT4YeEfTPix
Rionna Morgan is an international, best-selling novelist,
poet, and recognized icon in the Web3 literary space.
Creator of The 7 Love Stories, a digital collection making
literary history, her work bridges tradition and innovation, with recent
features including a digital poem showcased in Paris.
As owner of Whitney Morgan Media and former Editor-in-Chief
of Vagobond Magazine, Rionna empowers writers and builds vibrant communities
where stories and creators are celebrated and honored.
Her writing appears with Simon & Schuster, Mythic North
Press, and in features like Celtic Life International and Fortune dot com.
A sought-after speaker at NFTNYC and the Academic Web3
Conference, she lives between Montana and New York, always dreaming up new
worlds.
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Book Reviews by the Reluctant Retiree 