An excerpt from The Festival by H. P. Lovecraft
It was the Yuletide, that men call Christmas though they know in their hearts it is older than Bethlehem and Babylon, older than Memphis and mankind. It was the Yuletide, and I had come at last to the ancient sea town where my people had dwelt and kept festival in the elder time when festival was forbidden; where also they had commanded their sons to keep festival once every century, that the memory of primal secrets might not be forgotten.
To all Satanists—keep Festival this night of nights, and the primal secrets shall never be forgotten, for this holiday has belonged to our kind from time immemorial.
Magus Peter H. Gilmore