Sophia Bonnie Wodin

In 1976 a friend gifted me with a deck of Tarot cards along with a book and the statement, “you will be needing these…” Thus, a journey began.   For a few years I studied the book she had given me. I studied the cards. I loved some of them. I feared others. I wrapped them in a special piece of silk and found a box to be their home. I carried them everywhere I traveled. And I traveled extensively in those days. I did readings for myself. I did readings for friends. We became allies, the cards and I. I wondered about my Eastern European bloodlines. Perhaps I had some Romany blood somewhere back there, back then.   I remembered my mother reading tea leaves for us, for friends, when I was small. I remember her stopping. Refusing when asked, dismissing it as a ‘party game’. I remember her talking about her Grandmother who she claimed was truly a witch. I remember when she stopped saying that.   As it turns out, that friend all of those years ago, was on to something. She has since turned to