I lit a candle for Mara tonight, and placed it on her altar. Nothing fancy, just a single tealight, the one you can buy in packages of a hundred.
Sometimes I do more. Sometimes I light candles in all the candle-holders, half a dozen or more. Sometimes incense. Sometimes I offer fresh water or perfumed oil, or old coins, or remembrances of gifts granted.
Sometimes I sit with her, and talk of my dreams. Sometimes I beg favors, and sometimes I thank her. Sometimes I make promises, and sometimes I fulfill them.
(I’m waiting for things to come through on a big one right now. When it works out, you’ll know.)
Sometimes I just sit with her.
Sometimes I’m too tired, or too anxious, to do more than light it and go to bed.
But every night I light the candle.