What little is known about the Finnish (Suomi) legends was collected by Elias Lonnröt in a compilation entitled the Kalevala, of which there have been many translations. The Finnish religion was passed from generation to generation using only oral tradition; the numerous legends and stories were remembered line for line by the Runo Masters, or bards of the era. They would have intense, long contests (sometimes lasting over 10-15 hours) to decide who could best sing/remember the Runos (stanzas) that make up the songs of the Finns. Little is collected from the country-people beyond what Lonnröt managed to put together (which is no small accomplishment in itself but a fraction of what actually existed).

According to the legends, the heroes play a slightly more important part than the Gods The exploits of the three major heroes are the grist for most of the tales; The heroes are Väinämöinen, Lemminkäinen and Ilmarinen. Their mothers often had to come to their rescue, however, and in the Finnish culture mothers were highly respected and revered.

There are many Gods and Elemental Spirits in the Suomi tradition; the primary Gods of the pantheon are Ukko and Rauni. Ukko (a.k.a. Ukko-Jumala and Mader Atcha) is God of Wind, Thunder and Sky; He rules over the pantheon — His word is law. Rauni (a.k.a. Mader Akka), Ukko's wife, is the Goddess of Lightning, Grain, and the Rowan Tree. She is the primal mother, whereas Ukko is the primal father.

Hiisi is the God of Evil and rules over a dark realm (not the same as the Underworld of death—there are other God/desses attached to that realm).

The fleet-footed Mielikki is Goddess of the Forest, Hunt, and Faerie. She lives in Tapiola with Her husband Tapio, where She watches over the land and the animals, and where She rules the `Thousand Daughters of Creation'—known as the Metsanhaltija (essentially the wood spirits/faerie spirits). All who enter the forests must ask Her favor before hunting.

The Lord of the Forest, Tapio, rules over the realm of Tapiola with Mielikki; He is guardian of the woodland, a Green Man/Hunter God. His energy tends towards protecting and providing.

Mielikki and Tapio have two children: Nyyrikki, the son, a young Godling of the forest and hunt) and Tuilikki, a sweet young Goddess whose flute music rides on the wind.

The magic of the Finns pervaded everything they did or said; everyday routines and chores had their own spells and songs. It was a very shamanistic culture, oddly enough reminding me somewhat of the Hawaiian religion in numerous ways. The Finns were considered crazy and dangerous, especially by many of the Norwegians. The Suomi shamans were said to be able to "knot up the wind" into ropes, which they would then sell to the Vikings. Untie one knot and a small breeze would spring up; two knots and a steady wind; three knots and a gale would come crashing into the ocean. Their magic with the wind was said to work and work well.

Very little is known about their magic and/or spells today; much of what remains lies cloaked in the Runos of the Kalevala. Sad to say, most of the Finnish people probably know very little about their roots. Although Finland was one of the last countries converted by the Christians (because of the difficulty in traversing the land and the incredible complexity of the language), today most of the populace consider themselves Lutheran and the old ways are relegated to children's tales. Christianity strangled the native ways with a death-grip not felt in some of the other Western European countries.

How I Came To Pledge Myself

I have been in the Craft since 2/29/80. The month before I entered the Craft, I went walking in the woods with a friend at 2:00 A.M., and we saw a unicorn. Yes, a real unicorn; it was about two feet tall, glowing luminous white.

My friend was terrified; I was drawn. I could not look away from the creature's eyes; there was some spark of recognition there. After about thirty seconds, the unicorn vanished as if it had never been there. I naturally question all that happens to me, so I took the time to look around: no stray beams of moonlight, no one lurking in the woods with a flashlight...nothing that could have produced the intense vision we saw.

My friend would not talk about the experience after we returned to our dorm. She was a Catholic, although somewhat lapsed, and it frightened her back into her faith. For me, well...without another explanation, I accepted the vision I'd been offered as legitimate, beautiful, and mysterious.

The next month, I went walking again, late into the night on February 29th...the moon was huge and golden, or so it seemed to me...and under that moon I was called back to a Goddess I'd never before heard mention of...a female voice, ancient and deep, asked me if I knew who She was and I did; every fiber in my body recognized Her. Then She asked if I knew what I was, and in a moment of illumination, I remembered that I'm a Witch and have always been. The last question She asked was, "Are you ready to come home?" and, with only an instant to answer, I said "Yes," knowing that if I said no, I'd never be offered another chance this life-time around.

It was a fork in the road from which there would be no going back; no matter which choice I made I knew it was a pivotal point in my development. Whatever happened from then on would be based on that point in time.

I also understood that if I had not accepted the sight of the unicorn—if I'd tried to explain it away even after I looked for logical reasons for its appearance—I'd never have met the Goddess that night.

The next years were spent in discovery; after such a mystical experience came the drudgery of trying to find out all I could about Witchcraft (while I didn't equate it with Satanism I honestly thought it was a bunch of "hoo hah," that is, up until that night). I spent years experimenting to find the path that worked best for me. I also realized that some of the traditionalists were not going to accept my experience as valid—since I considered my meeting with the Goddess my initiation (no Priest/ess needed, thank you kindly).

By 1991, I had worked with the Goddess Cerridwen for a number of years and fully accepted Mielikki and Tapio; I am Their Priestess for this life.

I expected to be pledging to a Celtic Goddess—I'm 3/4 Irish and 1/4 Cherokee—and the Celts have so much tradition and so much lore that it seemed like a natural choice. I did not expect to be pledging to a tradition of which I have no blood a drop of Finnish blood, nor into a lineage which contains so little written information.

Most of the knowledge I've gathered over the years through my intuition and meditation has proved itself. One example: I paint pictures of Mielikki and Tapio. I always paint Fly Agaric mushrooms in Her portraits and never understood why. But I discovered that the shamans used to wait until the reindeer ate Fly Agaric (apparently they do exist over there) and then they would collect the reindeer urine, purify it, and drink it for shamanistic vision quests! Now I understand why I include the Fly Agaric in the pictures!

I also write to K.M. Koppana on a regular basis (she is Finnish, a Priestess of Mielikki and Tapio in Helsinki), and she wrote an interesting book titled Snake Fat and Knotted Threads which is...well, a peculiar and fascinating look at what seems to be post-Christian Finnish shamanism. We've both had some interesting hits on M & T; we both visualize Mielikki as green-skinned, for one thing.

Then this year I discovered that Kalevala Day, a national day of pride for the Finns, falls on February 28, one day before my entry into the Craft, the day on which I celebrate my Craft anniversary three years out of four.

More and more things keep cropping up that lead me to question whether or not my pledging to Mielikki and Tapio was truly predestined—I used to think it was a slot machine, but now I'm not so sure.