The Old Man’s icon is a work in progress – I need to get some bright blue paint for the exposed wood to contrast with that fire engine red and charcoal black.
I’ve been working in the floral department the past few days, and looking at the huge inventory of flowers we’ve gotten in inspired me to buy and arrange my own bouquets from our selection at work. So I made four that are quintessentially “me” – made from strangely shaped, sharp, dark, and hardy ingredients – giving two to immediate family, and two to my Gods.
It’s very different, giving something to a deity based on things they are explicitly known to like, versus something that is entirely your creation. It’s more a kind of self-sacrifice than a material sacrifice. You’re handing over your ego, skill, and taste, hoping that they’re impressed by what you come up with all on your own; hoping they’re impressed with you.
The flowers, much to my relief, were well received. In fact, I don’t think I was expecting the Old Man to like them as much as He did. I guess, as a God of the fields, He has a deep and abiding love of all cultivated flora. I didn’t expect a farmer’s patron to have such a taste for beauty!
Another takeaway, though: sometimes, it is the thought that counts.