Plants in Practice: Hellebore

Charlie Rainbow Wolf

Imbolc is the time of year when, if you know where you’re looking, you’ll see the first signs of spring approaching. Around here, it’s the hellebores that we watch. A member of the Ranunculaceae family, these hardy perennials take center stage, keeping their green foliage year round and blooming at the end of winter, even when there’s still snow on the ground. There are several kinds of Helleborus orientals, and they come in many different colors, some with frilled petals. The different hybrids are often called Christmas roses or Lenten roses because of the wild rose shape of the blossoms and the time of year when they start to flower. Note that this is not the same plant as Veratrum viride, which is also sometimes called Indian hellebore or false hellebore.

Hellebores are an easy addition to the garden, particularly if you live in USDA zones 6–9. They seem to prefer partial shade (too much shade and the blooms won’t be as prolific), but will do well in nearly full sun, too. They need a soil that is neutral and not too wet, and they shouldn’t be planted too deeply into the earth, as this, too, will affect flower production. While this is a plant that will soldier on through deep snows and seasonal neglect, it will benefit from a bit of rotten manure or other composting materials in the fall and some late winter pruning. Don’t put the discarded leaves into the compost heap, though; their leathery texture takes several months to rot down.

Division is the best method of propagation for hellebores. They will self-sow, but the plants that grow from this may appear where they’re unwanted or not be true to the parent plant, so this should be discouraged. I’ve got my Lenten roses under a crabapple tree away from other plants, and for the most part I leave them alone—and they thrive, providing me with an early spring show of pale rose and lilac blossoms every year.

Hellebore isn’t just for appearance, though. In folk medicine it was a powerful purgative and was used as a cure for insanity. Hellebore is highly toxic if ingested, and contemporary practitioners advise against its use because of this. All parts of the plant are very bitter to the taste, so the risk of a child or a pet accidentally poisoning themselves is very remote. Remember that toxins can be absorbed through the skin, though, so wear gloves if you’re going to be handling it a lot, wash your hands immediately after working with the plant, and if you suspect that a child or a pet has indeed tasted it, seek medical advice immediately.

Even though hellebores are associated with Saturn and Mars, their element is water, making them an excellent plant to represent Imbolc and the watery snow that melts with the changing seasons. Their evergreen leaves remind us that winter only sleeps, while their blossoms promise us that spring is not far away. Imbolc is a time of new beginnings and of fire (Mars). It’s a time for planning for the warmer weather, when gardeners start to conjure up ideas for their gardens. Others may turn their thoughts to romance, to fertility and new life. Wherever your focus lies, you can incorporate hellebore safely into the way you celebrate or honor this turn of the wheel.

An Imbolc Friendship Ritual

This will take thirty to sixty minutes, plus preparation time, depending on whether you’re doing it alone or with a group. For this ritual, if you don’t have hellebores, wild roses (Rosa rugosa) will be a suitable substitute—and if you’ve any hesitation about the toxins in hellebores, then go ahead and use rose. It’s best to make a substitution than spend your festival worrying! You’ll need a small fish bowl or circular goblet with water in it and some very simple food; beans and cornbread, pot stickers, seasonal stew, or something else that is filling, inexpensive, and local to your area. You’ll also want ale or modest wine, or some kind of a fruit tea, and a flagon or wine glass.

On the day of your ceremony, prepare your simple food. If you’re holding this as a group gathering, ask each attendee to bring an uncomplicated covered dish, something that was handed down through their family or reminds them of a loved one in some way. Place all the dishes apart from the main course on the table. If the main course is a soup or stew, put it in a tureen, or something else that’s easily carried. If it is a simple meatloaf or meat pie, then put it on a platter.

At the time of the ritual, place the hellebore (or rose) flowers in the goblet that has the water in it, and put it in the center of your feast table or on your altar. The flowers that herald the spring are the focus for this ritual, for they’re symbolic of the coming spring. It doesn’t matter whether you do this solitary or in a group, the outcome is the same.

Next, put the main course in front of you. Say a prayer of gratitude—something like, “For the simple comforts in life: good food, a warm fire, and good friends, I (or we, if doing this with others) give thanks.” Then take a bite of your food.

Now raise up your flagon of ale, your glass of wine, or your cup of tea, and make the toast “to absent friends.” Pause for a moment and remember those who cannot be with you at this time, those who are far away, and those who are no longer walking on this earth. Drink to their memory and to the health of those still here. If you are doing this in a group, pass the drink around.

There’s nothing left to do now but enjoy your feast. Dig heartily into the simple food that is already with you, and cast your thoughts forward to all that the coming season has to offer. Whether you’re a gardener, a student, a parent, a young couple in love, or a new family, the rest of this year holds potential. The early flowers of the hellebore that appear even when the days are short and cold reminds you of what you hope to achieve, while the evergreen leaves bring a promise that you have the tenacity to move forward and make your plans manifest!

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