Dahlia's Story, and an Invitation to Share Your Story

This was sent to me by Dahlia-  
Where do our attachments to certain divine entities come from? When each of us move on this path we start somewhere and different Gods and Goddesses find us, call us, or make themselves infinitely present. It may be as simple as earth mother and father sky, or it can be as specific as a pantheon or grouping that hits in the gut, stirs the belly, and lays roots. Here is the story of where I started. Every persons is completely different and beautiful, and I would love to read them all! Please feel free to comment and tell your story. . . 
A little girl was walking hand in hand with her mother through an average suburban neighborhood. The streets were quiet and the night was clear and cool. A breeze blew through the trees in it's musical way allowing the leaves to dance and create their own song. The shadows from the street lights were long and caressed the sidewalk with their form. "Mommy I see the moon and he sees me". I said as I looked up walking hazardly with her keeping a strong grip on my hand. She gently squeezed and said "that man in the moon is a silly husbands tale, the real story is much more magickal." As we rambled down the street ,lights shadowing our path with sleeping houses she told me, " The moon is ours, she is connected to women,. Our bodies are mystically linked in her knowledge and our cycles are hers.”
It was one of those moments that reach in a grasp your breath, one that makes you remember your alive and that there is more to your world around you. That little girl knew there was a God that protected her, that she could talk to when she needed. When she was sad or angry, wanting and searching, hurt or felt pure joy, she laid in bed in front of her window talking to that moon. In that moment God and the moon made sense. They merged and she felt the shimmer of it run down her skin. God wasn’t always the man with all the answers but the moon was the mother the could pass on her comfort and knowledge. When she talked to the moon, asked her for help, she wasn’t looking to the embodiment of a Christian God, but talking to the Great Mother, to protect and give strength, teach and to learn from..
My mother, at the time would have considered herself a Christian, a Presbyterian, a modern feminist, wanting to teach her child to be a capable self-sufficient woman. But that little girl who loves dresses and makeup, who could care less about her gi joe and picked up Barbie and She-ra, who couldn’t wait to wear a bra and shave, left the traditional American feminism behind and found comfort and home in the woman in the moon.
She could be strong and important while wearing a dress. She could cook a meal, fight and epic battle, love deeply, and help to find harmony in the world around her. She was woman and she was whole.