This is Blackberry Circle's adaptation of The Troll's Tear story by D. J. Conway, performed during the Samhain 2011 ritual in the Circle of the Dead.

The night was very dark, with a Full Moon hanging in the cloud-filed sky above. The air was crisp with the feel of late Autumn and the doorway between the worlds was wide open. Carved pumpkins sat on the porches of the houses in the little town, and the laughter of children dressed in costumes could be heard from the streets.

It was a sad time for Brian as he visited the small grave in the grove. Halloween was a time he had enjoyed with his children… Until now.

“Son, I miss you so much!” said Brian, looking to the stars. “Why did you have to die?”

"It was time to rejoin the Mother," said a gentle voice in the darkness.

"Who said that?" Brian looked around but saw no one.

"Dying is part of the cycle of life, you know." There was movement in the darkness of the grove.

"Who are you?" The moonlight shone down on the little woman, and Brian could see she was not human.

"I'm a troll-wife," said the creature as she came to sit across from Brian. "This is a sad night for both of us. I, too, came to these woods to bury my husband." The troll-wife wiped a crystal tear from her cheek. "We had a good life but he was very old. Still it makes me sad."

Brian stared at the troll-wife. The little woman was the color of rock in the moonlight, her hair like long strands of dried moss, her bright eyes like shining crystals. She wore a dress woven of oak leaves and tree bark.

"My husband and I have lived for a long, long time." the troll-wife said. "We often talked to your son when he was playing here in the woods. Sammi and I were friends. I shall miss him, too." The little woman patted Sammi's grave gently. "Sleep well, little friend. When you are rested, we shall talk together again."

"But he's dead," Brian said, his voice choked with tears.

"Child, this is Samhain. Don't you know the ancient secrets of this sacred time of year?" The troll-wife motioned for Brian to come and sit beside her. "It is true that our friends and family have gone into a world where we can no longer physically touch them, but the Mother has given us other ways of communicating with them. We can do this any time, but the time of Samhain is the easiest."

"I don't understand how this can be done," Brian said, "or why Samhain makes it easier."

"At this time of year," the troll-wife answered, "the walls between this world and the world of souls and spirits is very thin. If we are quiet and listen, we can hear our loved ones and they can hear us. We talk, not with spoken words, but with the heart and mind."

"Isn't that just imagination?" Brian looked down at the grave, sadness once more coming into his eyes. "Like my thinking I can feel my grandfather watching over me at night like he used to?"

"Sometimes it is, but mostly it is not imagination, only our family comes to see us in their spirit bodies." The troll-wife reached up her hand and patted something Brian couldn't see on her shoulder.

"Like my friend the raven. He is here now."

Brian looked hard and saw a thin form of hazy moonlight on the troll-wife's shoulder. "I've seen something like that in my house," he whispered. "I thought I was dreaming." He jumped as something touched his shoulder. When he looked at it, nothing was there.

The troll-wife smiled. "Close your eyes and think of your grandfather," she said. "He has been waiting a long time for you to see him."

Brian closed his eyes and, at once, the form of his grandfather came into her mind. The grandfather smiled with happiness. He felt a wave of love come from him, and he sent his love back. Then he felt the old man place his hand on his shoulder.

"Can I do this with Sammi?" Brian asked.

"Not yet," the troll-wife answered. "He needs to sleep a while and rest. Then he will come to you. This gives him time to adjust to his new world and you time to grieve for him. It is not wrong to grieve, but we must not grieve forever."

"I never thought of it that way," Brian said. "It's kind of like they moved away, and we can only talk to them on the phone."

"It is this way with all creatures." The troll-wife stood up and held out a hand to Brian. "Will you join me, human? Although I buried my husband on this night, I still must dance and sing to all my friends and ancestors who have gone on their journey into the other world. For this is a time to honor the ancestors."

Brian joined the troll-wife in the ancient slow troll dances around the grove in the moonlight. He watched quietly while the troll-wife called out troll-words to the four directions, words Brian couldn't understand. Deep in his heart he felt the power of the strange words and knew they were given in honor and love by the little troll-wife.

When the troll-wife was finished with her ritual, she hugged Brian. "Go in peace, human," she said. "And remember what I have told you about the ancient secret of Samhain."

"I will," Brian answered. "Will I ever see you again?"

"Whenever the Moon is Full, I will be here," the little troll-wife said, "And especially at Samhain."

"I wish I had something to give you." Brian hugged the little woman. "You have taught me so much." He felt the tears come to his eyes again.

"Let's exchange tears for our lost friends." The troll-wife reached up a rough finger and caught a tear as it fell from Brian's eye. The tear glistened on her finger. The troll-wife gently touched her finger to her cloak, and Brian's tear shone there like a diamond in the moonlight.

Brian reached up carefully and caught one of the troll-wife's tears as it slid down her rough cheek. It turned into a real crystal in his hand.

"Remember the secret of Samhain, and remember me," the troll-wife said softly as she disappeared into the darkness. Brian walked back up the hill, the crystal clutched in his hand.

"I will be alright," he said to himself. He opened his hand under the moon light and saw a perfect, tear-shaped crystal lying there.

"A troll-tear. Now I know the secret of Samhain.”