Happy Easter! - 4/8/09

Sitting in church this past Sunday, waving palm leaves with the rest of the congregation, got me thinking about all the Easters of my past. Easter has always been important to me, but the reasons for that have changed over the years.

When I was little, Easter was all about the dress. Each year my mom would take us shopping for a brand new Easter dress, complete with matching hat and purse. I don't really consider myself a girly-girl, now or then, but I loved the idea of picking out that springy, flimsy, short-sleeved Easter dress (and on those occasions when Easter fell in March and the temperature was still frigid, we'd just suck it up and pretend it was a balmy spring day.) The hat was my favorite part. (Does anyone even wear hats anymore?) Usually they were straw, in pastel shades of white, pink, yellow or green. I'd sit in church trying to ignore the elastic that was digging into my throat, triggering my gag reflex. Inside my purse would be my offering, Kleenex and my Bonne Bell Lip Smacker.

My sisters and I would each receive an Easter basket filled with candy, silly-putty, play-doh and coloring books. The candy was definitely the most treasured item, and we'd trade our favorites with each other. Jennifer, my older sister, loved malted milk eggs, so I'd trade mine for her orange jellybeans. My Cadbury Mini-Egg addiction was still years ahead of me. Before Jelly Belly's were invented, jellybeans came in five flavors: green (lime) orange (orange), red (cherry), yellow (lemon) and black (death). Dad was a licorice freak, so the black ones went to him. There was the hallowed hollow bunny, the one that stared at you with its candy-button eye, daring you to bite its ears off. Our house was a Peeps-free zone since none of us could stand those neon chicks (they usually ended up in the microwave...try it!)

The day before Easter we would dye hard-boiled eggs, reveling in the smell of sulfur and vinegar (it's the Paas that refreshes!) Miraculously these eggs ended up in our Easter baskets the next morning (and why didn't it strike us as strange that the Easter Bunny was rooting through our fridge at night, searching for those eggs?) Easter dinner brought the entire family together to enjoy a fresh ham or turkey, followed by angel food cake (heavenly!) The day would end with a 5-hour showing of "The Ten Commandments" or "Ben Hur" on our local television station. It wouldn't be Easter without a heapin' helpin' of Heston.

As I grew older and became more active in my church's youth group, Easter became less about candy and more about God (though I still liked buying that dress.) I was less resistant to the lamb-scented Maundy Thursday service and on Good Friday I would watch a video of "Godspell" or "Jesus Christ Superstar" (gotta love the 70's). My sisters and I would wake at the crack of dawn on Easter morning, not to raid our candy baskets but to participate in our youth group sunrise service. Releasing white balloons into the early morning sky was a meaningful way for us to begin our Easter.

As an adult, I spent a long stretch of time absent from the church. I had a full time job, worked Sundays, then eventually married an agnostic. I moved often enough that I convinced myself that it didn't make sense to join a church; who knew where we would settle permanently? I'd visit my old church in NJ from time to time, always attending Christmas and Easter services, but it wasn't the same.

It was the birth of my children that prompted me to finally join a wonderful church near our home. My kids are growing up in this church, attending Sunday school, vacation bible camp and youth group. Ironically, we never attend Easter service at our church; we travel to NJ to visit family. But the warmth and fellowship we enjoy all year-round travels with us. In addition to the candy and toys, I'm adding a Bible to each of my boys' Easter baskets. Hopefully I can squeeze in a showing of "Godspell" before we leave. And you know I'll be getting that new dress.

Happy Easter!