Songs, stories, poems, prayers, and recollections keep our history alive and relevant. The oral tradition of our most sacred charge, the keeper of all secrets , are hidden in leaves and in letters. The letters that are woven together in a brilliant tapestry of our history is what keeps us whole – and alive in prosperity.


As a citizen of Comfort Notch, you are bound to our traditions and our way of life. You cannot escape Comfort Notch. It lives in your bones and runs in your blood.  The deep of the forest permeates your dreams, and its Autumnal leaves haunt your waking life. Each and every one of us knows that, as long as we hold tight to tradition and uphold the promise, the Forest will provide for us. For all eternity.


(The oldest Comfort Notch children’s rhyming song)


Biddle, Biddle, soft and merry

From a seed, a child she carried.

Girl of beauty, girl of grace

But Daddy would not claim her face


Baby’s crib, opened wide

Daddy sends a pig inside…

Chomps and smacks and swallows down

Biddle’s scream the only sound


Lightning, thunder, ax, and knife

Fifty whacks, she takes a life

Fifty more, she takes another

Murderess now instead of mother


Head and hair and bone and blood

Turn stone and leaf and tree and mud

Watch your feet now, watch your nose

Biddle, Biddle, there she grows




(Author unknown – Comfort Notch 1898)


The legend is told

Of a forest maiden so bold.

Beautiful and sweet

A site to behold.


Wrapped in leaves

A love she sees.


Brave of heart

Quick of mind

Daughter of the forest

A new life she finds.


Eyes for one

Plans unbound.

Deceit by both

Turned away

Without a betroth


Welcomed back by the leaves

To fury she cleaves


Seed planted, nurtured, and born

Trappings of decency

Excuses well worn


Pleas for the good

Turned away with scorn

Back to the woods

To her a child of leaves is born


Hate and pain

In blood and bone

Seeds of suffering

In the earth are sown


Alive with a combination of bark and skin

The mother and child

Call trees their kin.


From the life within the woods and leaves

Hope of reconciliation she believes


Return to the town she goes

Rejection and hatred she receives

In her fury, blood and revenge now flows.


Absorb the pain

Expect a price

Notch must offer sacrifice

For continued success and wealth

To them they expect happiness and health


She whispers,

And watches

She makes the choice

From the leaves she calls,

Rustle her voice.


“You are the one,

My child you are chosen.

You cannot run,

This is the pact unbroken.”


From the deep of the earth

To the blue of the sky

From the green of the wood

To the blaze of the fire

Amidst the cry.


Sacrifice by one

Not in vain

the time is nigh

Only vengeance remains.


In the green,

In the red,

In the gold.

The ritual continues

To her we must hold.


Cradled in limbs

Rocked by the boughs

Wrapped by the vines

These are our vows.


Trees are the life, the blood, the way

Screams in the night

And the light of the day


This cycle now ends

Through a mother’s love and pain

Wrath and destruction rends

Our earthly domain.


She is renewed

A new song is sung

The wise one awakes

Always be young.


She lives in the leaves

A new legend they weave

This is the truth

The people believe.



(Originally written in 1900 by the Most Reverend Jesper Barrick, Pastor of the First Church of Comfort Notch)


There is beauty in the Fallen.

Wisdom and color,

A continuation of Life.


It is said

That in being Fallen,

There is Death.


But what is Death?

Only the natural and logical continuation of Life.


In Life, as in Death , there is the Sacrifice.

There is the small, personal sacrifice,

And then there is the tightly-knit community Sacrifice.

The Sacrifice that holds us together.


No matter the Sacrifice, it always leaves a mark.

It cuts deep – to the bone, into the soul.

To cope, we must push down our pain, and realize it is for the greater good.

For your neighbors and community.

For those here and now, and for the future generations.


Does this make us a Fallen?

Perhaps so.

Perhaps not.


A uniform cool Green in the warmth of Summer

Slowly creeps into the change of the brilliant fire in the Autumn chill.







Like the leaves, Fallen does not mean the End.

Rather, it is a continuation of Life.



(Delivered by the first mayor of Comfort Notch, Mayor Pauling Hardy during the first official Autumnal)

We honor you

The one who is chosen by Her

We revel in your sacrifice

For the continuance of the way of life in Comfort Notch


Without you, we are nothing.

You will live forever in song, in story, in stone.


Look away from the fire

Into the consuming dark of the wood


Eternal life is yours

As your blood feeds the ground

As your soul sustains the green


To you we give our thanks, as you take the next step.




(originally penned by Most Reverend Jesper Barrick)


Your blood is the price of the covenant

We entered.

Your blood is our life.

Your soul is our sustenance.

Your bones the foundation of us all.


May your body be wrapped in the soft leaves of the vine, and

Cradled in the boughs of our Beloved on high.


Return to the Mother.

May She provide you eternal love,

Resting in a cushion of brilliance.

May your soul find rest and comfort

Knowing that your body returns to that from which it was born.


We thank you.

We love you.

We embrace you.


And so it is.