Unlike other gods, who spend a good amount of their time messing up the lives of humans, many of Demeter’s stories happen in the relatively short time she’s wandering the land looking for her daughter. She came across a large number of people as she searched, and how they received her pretty much sealed their fate.

Not only did all of mankind pay with a great famine, but she also singled out some particularly offensive people. Askalabos came across the famished goddess as she was pausing for a meal, and when he mocked her ravenous appetite, she turned him into a gecko. Then, there were the Seirenes. While they were Persephone’s handmaidens, they refused to help Demeter in her search, and were turned into monsters as a result.

But Demeter was also very grateful to those who welcomed her into their homes or helped her on her journey. She gave Phytalos the first fig tree for his kindness, and gave the Eleusinian king Keleos the gift of farming and agriculture (via Theoi). Trisaules and Damithales gave her shelter, and were rewarded with the gift of a crop called pulse, while the prince Triptolemos was made a god of sowing and milling.

Demeter was heartbroken when Hades stole her daughter away, and while it might seem like she would have appreciated any help in getting Persephone back from the underworld, it turns out that whole “enemy of my enemy is my friend” thing doesn’t really work for Greek gods. 

Hades had his share of lovers before Persephone, and one of those was the nymph Minthe. According to the Greek writer Oppian (via Theoi), Minthe was pretty bitter when she was replaced by Demeter’s daughter. She was just as vocal about it, too, complaining that she was “nobler of form and more excellent in beauty,” while making it clear that she was all about kicking Persephone out and taking back what she viewed as her rightful place. 

Demeter may have wanted her daughter back, but she wasn’t about to stand for that disrespect, either. There are two versions of what happened. One says that she turned the nymph into dust, and Hades sprouted the mint plant from Minthe’s remains. The other says Demeter turned Minthe into mint, and there’s a little footnote to this, too. Anyone wondering what mint has to do with Hades and the underworld might look at the plant differently once they know that the fragrant leaves were (likely) used during ancient funerals to help cover the smell of the dead.

Different areas of the ancient world gave Demeter different titles. Sometimes she was called the Bringer of Sheaves in reference to her gift of wheat, and she was also called Of the Furrow, Fruit Bearer, or The Green Shoot. In places including Athens, Pheneos, and Megara, she was known as Demeter The’smia, or Thesmo’phoros, which essentially translates to Demeter the Law-Giver, because in addition to giving mankind the gift of agriculture, she also provided law. (Sometimes, says Theoi, Persephone was given those same titles, and they were called The Two Goddesses.)

It seems like an odd combination at first glance, but according to Greek religion scholar Allaire B. Stallsmith’s “The Name of Demeter Thesmophoros,” it actually makes a lot of sense.

“Law” is meant in a few respects. First, Demeter revealed the laws that governed her secret rites and rituals, but she was also said to have established the natural laws that govern the way things grow and the cycle of life.

Then, writers including Callimachus say that she also gave mankind the idea of civil laws and ordinances (via Theoi). As Mythagora points out, the gift of agriculture allowed mankind to settle into cities and towns, and in order to make the most of her gifts, they needed to figure out how to live in close-knit societies and work together to plow fields, sow seeds, harvest crops, and process — then share — the fruits of their labors. Fortunately, she’s credited as showing them how.

So, what do we know about the Eleusinian Mysteries, that mystical, mysterious festival dedicated to Demeter and her beloved daughter?

Kalliope Papangeli, head archaeologist at Eleusis, says that the most sacred part of the ritual would have started with initiates partaking in the drink called kykeon (via The New York Times). While it’s often repeated (via Gizmodo) that it was a psychedelic drink, Papangeli says that probably wasn’t the case at all. They were simply drinking a mix of mint, barley, and water — the same meal that Eleusinian queen Metaneira gave Demeter as she rested in her search (via Oxford Classical Dictionary).

As participants walked through the sanctuary and ultimately down into the caves beneath, they would have seen actors and priests reenacting the abduction of Persephone by her uncle, Hades. Persephone would return to the surface — with the initiates — and everyone would move into a massive space called the Telesterion.

And that’s where the mystery starts.

There are a few clues as to what went on in that innermost ritual, including three words: dromena, deiknumena, and legomena. That’s pretty vague, as it translates to “Things done, things shown, things said.” The New York Times explains that a further hint was buried in a later, Gnostic text, which referred to “the ear of wheat harvested in silence.” What the heck does that mean? No one’s sure, exactly, but it’s almost definitely a reference to Demeter’s ultimate gifts: wheat, grain, bread, and life.

It’s impossible to exaggerate just how important Demeter, her cult, and the Eleusinian Mysteries were. World History says that the first of these rituals were held sometime around 1600 B.C., and for a long time, the only actual road in the Greek world was the one that spanned the 14 miles from Athens to Eleusis, where Demeter had rested beside a well on her journey to find her daughter. It was there, too, that she — in disguise — cared for the city’s young prince. When his mother found the old woman baptizing her son in fire she was understandably upset, but when Demeter revealed herself, it was agreed they would build her temple, and the prince would grow up to be the demigod and bringer of grain, Triptolemos.

The road was the Sacred Way, and it was meant to trace the same path Demeter took on her journey.

Those who participated in the Eleusinian Mysteries were said to be forever changed: Plato wrote “because of those sacred and faithful promises given in the mysteries… we hold it firmly for an undoubted truth that our soul is incorruptible and immortal.”

It’s not entirely surprising, then, that Christianity had a huge problem with Demeter. The rituals officially came to an end in 392, when Emperor Theodosius decreed the entire thing was an affront to Christ and the one true religion of Christianity. Demeter’s temple was abandoned, and completely destroyed by the Christian Alaric, King of the Goths, in 396.