by Noella Noelophile®
Happy Easter 2023!
This time of year is full of great memories for me.
When I was growing up, “Eastertime” was always a celebration.
My family would travel from New York to spend a week with my maternal grandmother in Wilmington, Delaware. Springtime, and Easter, will always remind me of those days.
Grandmom’s next-door neighbors had a greenhouse, with potted hyacinths, tulips and daffodils growing in profusion. I still remember the brilliant colors and scent of the flowers.
(Royalty-free image by Annette Meyer from Pixabay.)
Meanwhile, wild violets carpeted her back yard. Robins hopped among the fresh green grass, and still-chilly spring breezes made the daffodils nod and seem to dance.
And getting ready for Easter Sunday was always a production.
We’d travel to the nearby shopping center for new shoes, purses and hats. Usually, our new Easter clothes were already hanging up in the bedroom, ready to be worn to church.
(Royalty-free image by Deborah Hudson from Pixabay.)
“This isn’t about ‘see my new clothes’ or ‘see my new hat’!”, my mother was sure to say, as we were shopping. But she still seemed to enjoy looking in the department stores (I know, that was a different world!) at the new colors and styles.
And on Easter morning, there were the baskets. One for each person in the house, including my then-in-her-eighties grandmother.
(royalty-free image by Van3ssa 🩺 Zheki 🙏 Dazzy 🎹 from Pixabay.)
The “bunny” had been busy.
But we couldn’t linger over those chocolate eggs, jelly beans and marshmallow chicks. The church bells would be ringing before long.
(Royalty-free image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay.)
More so than any Easter message of hope we would have heard back then, I remember the feeling of community. Of being among people whose families had known my mother and her family for decades. After the service, no matter how long we’d been away, people would gather to chat with us as though they’d just seen us last week.
That, plus the following week of relatives stopping in to visit and getting to spend time with my grandmother, was Easter to me.
Decades later and thousands of miles away, those memories still bring a smile. So do wild violets, which will always remind me of my grandmother. And so do times with the loved ones with whom we share Easter today.
A very Happy Easter, and Happy Spring, to you and yours! May it be filled with newness and hope, just like those long-ago Easter mornings.