I created this little ritual for my daughter, Lauren Rabbitchild, when she was just a toddler. These days most folks pop their corn in a microwave or a hot air popper, but I still like to do it in an oil popper and pop three test kernels before I pour in the rest.

"Mommy, Mommy, let's make popcorn!"

"All right, Lauren. I'll get out the popper and oil, and you get the popcorn canister."

"Can I pour the oil, Mommy?"

"No, I'd better do that, little rabbit. But you can get out the big bowl."

"Mommy, why do you always put in..." the child hesitated a moment, counting the kernels of corn I had dropped into the oil, "three corns, and wait for them to pop? Why don't you do it all at once?"

"These three kernels will let us know when the oil is hot enough to pop the rest of the corn. One is for the Maiden, one for the Mother, and one for the Crone. Do you remember who the Maiden is?"

She nodded solemnly, "That's the little girl goddess."

"You're right. We know that the first kernel to pop is the maiden, because she is young and playful and impetuous."

"What's pet juice?"

"Impetuous. That means she's like you ." I rumpled my daughter's hair, "Quick to do whatever she wants. The next to pop is the Mother. Why do you think that is?"

"Why, Mommy?"

"Because she wants to hurry after her daughter."

"Like you run after me when we play tag?"

"Sure. Now, the third kernel is the crone."

"That's the grandma."

"Right again. Why do you suppose the Crone is the last to pop?"

Lauren looked thoughtful and then guessed that perhaps the Grandmother was old and tired. I laughed.

"No, baby. In her own way, the Crone is just as strong as the Maiden or the Mother. The Crone pops last because -"

Just then the first kernel popped. Lauren Rabbitchild gave a squeal of delight and pointed at the popper.

"Maiden!" she cried.

"That's right. Now the Crone waits until last because she is very -"

PoP! Went the next kernel, and Lauren shouted, "Mother!"

"Yes, that's the Mother. Now, the Crone waits until last because she is verywise and patient. She won't pop until the oil is just perfect."

Lauren looked expectantly at the popper, and after waiting as long as she could, (about three seconds), she asked what if the Crone never popped.

"That would be her way of telling us that the popcorn was too dry to pop. Oh! There's the Crone." I poured in the rest of the kernels and replaced the lid.

"Mommy, if the Crone says the corn is dry, do we have to throw it away?"

"Nah. We just put a piece of bread or fruit in the canister for a couple of days, then it's as good as new."

The popcorn began its percussive song now, first a few pops and then a full chorus of pops. Suddenly Lauren's face lit up.

"Mommy, I know why we put butter on the corn!"

"Because it tastes good?"

"Nooooo." Lauren pursed her lips and rolled her eyes.

"Well, it does taste good, baby. But why else do you think we put on butter?"

"Because it's YELLOW." She explained, "Like the Sun King. And he wants to be with his family."

"Sounds good to me, kiddo. Grab some napkins and lets pig out on popcorn."

Lauren nodded and said, "Blessed be popcorn."

"Blessed be popcorn." I echoed.