Easter Parade

There are a multitude of colors on the Easter pallet of childhood memories. All of us looked forward to a new outfit; the girls a spring dress with shiny black pat and leather shoes; the boys with gentlemanly pants and white shirts with bow ties and black tie shoes. Of course the crowning glory was the Easter Bonnet and that was chosen with great consideration. They were usually straw with flowers displayed around a ribbon band and came in a plethora of colors. The idea was to find the perfect match, and in our case, the most affordable. There was an excitement in the air as we would don our new clothes and feel new all over again. The weather was usually just short of pleasant, so many times we had to cover up with sweaters or even coats, but it didn’t keep us from feeling renewed after a long winter with short dark days.

Dad bought a second hand station wagon which we named ‘Woody” because of the wood panels on the side. On Easter Sunday we all piled in, squeezing together, elbowing each other and complaining that our clothes were getting wrinkled. The seats were tan brown and slippery. Mom always had a baby in her arms and I often had a toddler on my lap. We were off to church and our grand entrance.

A grand entrance it was as the people in the pews watch Dad and Mom walk down the aisle with all the chicklets behind. I always held my high, because I felt queenly with a hat, and I was first after mom and dad, if you don’t count the child I was always carrying. We filed in the pew taking a whole row, and knelt and stood, and knelt, and received communion, and tried so hard to stay still, but all the time our minds were on what waited for us back home.

I don’t remember the sermons except for the part of Father Ellis talking about the importance of giving so they could build a new school. It seemed like he was always asking for money above the change we had to put in the basket that got pushed under our noses each Sunday.

I was probably the most excited as we rode back home, because it was I who organized the Easter Egg hunts. I drew out an elaborate map for each sibling with pictures and arrows and clues and then and each one was handed the key to the kingdom of chocolate, I delighted in their quest for the buried treasure. I remember once the chocolate eggs were hidden inside the washing machine. They had to go out to trees, dig holes, go inside the house, back out to the garage, and open cookie jars to receive the next clue. It was so much fun, and even though I knew where the treasure lay, I am sure I had the most fun seeing my well laid out plan executed.

Some years there were Easter Baskets given by loving relatives or friends, but mostly we were happy with a chocolate egg.

A beautifully decorated egg that is as vividly clear in my mind’s eye today, as the day I set my eyes upon it. It was a large chocolate egg laced with yellow and white and green trim, but it was hollowed out, and inside sat a scene of a tiny bunny with a mommy bunny among some green grass. I was totally fascinated at how they could possible get inside that egg and create such beauty. Till this day I am awed by beautiful things, nature, people, colors, paintings, and of course I have never left my utter delight at a good piece of chocolate.