by Noella Noelophile®
Every Easter, my heart, and memory, go “home”: traveling over 2,300 miles and more decades than I care to admit.
Back to a simpler time, when we went to my grandmother’s house in Wilmington, Delaware, for the Easter holiday.
What I remember very best, were the carpets of wild violets that grew in her backyard.
Being a city kid, getting to go outside and play in the yard was a rare treat.
I’d pick wild violets for Grandmother Todd, and arrange them in small jelly glasses and vases in the kitchen. All week long, bouquets of violets would adorn the kitchen, dining room and living room.
Of course, our Easter holiday was much more than that.
(Royalty-free image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay.)
Community, charity and standards
Just up the hill from where my grandmother lived, was the church to which she belonged. She rarely, if ever, missed a church service–and especially, not at Easter. When we’d attend church together, I recall a fellow parishioner affectionately stage-whispering, “There she is,” as my grandmom entered the pew.
(“I love to hear a church bell!” I recall Grandmom whispering, as the bell resounded from the tower, calling worshipers to services.)
My favorite memories of her, include her giving, practical and down-to-earth ways. She’d bake her signature chcolate cake, every time we’d come to visit, because that was everyone’s favorite dessert. Years later, doing research into family stories, I’d come across one about her life as a middle-aged homemaker in the 1930s. She was known for being charitable; if one of the unemployed men of her day would knock on the door and ask for a meal, she would bring food out to him.
(Royalty-free image by Dmitry Gruskin from Pixabay.)
However, she would make clear that he was not to come inside the house! He was to eat his meal outside and politely leave. Anything else would not have been proper!
Cleanliness and “looking nice” were among her top values, as well as kindness and giving. She was also an incredible storyteller.
“Our neighbors used to say, every time they’d come by to see Mrs. Todd, she’d either have the washcloth in her hand or be going for it!” she’d chuckle, reminiscing about her years as a young mother of four children in the Depression.
Royalty-free image by Sabrina Eickhoff from Pixabay.)
An unexpected aspect
However, perhaps my favorite of all her stories, was the one about an outing she took with her church group, as a young woman in her teens.
The way she told it, the young people decided to go on a hayride.
Well, they did–only to have one of the wagon wheels break, halfway through. And of course, it was the early 1900’s–no one believed the women in the group capable of helping to fix a wagon wheel!
So, the young men jumped out of the wagon and went to see what they could do to fix it. All but one young man.
“That boy said he had a toothache and laid his head down in my lap,” Grandmom recalled.
“And that boy was—your grandfather.”
Continuing her story, she revealed that fixing the wagon wheel took the young men all night! The youth group were able to return home, finally, at five in the morning.
Ever afterwards, I would enjoy gently teasing my ever-so-proper and upstanding grandmother about “the time you stayed out all night.”
(Royalty-free image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay.)
And Easter Sunday morning was her reunion with community members who had been a part of her life, and my grandfather’s, for decades. After the service, we’d linger as she said “good morning” to all her friends in the congregation.
I was blessed to have my grandmother in my life until my early 20s. A rare gift, given that she was 70 when I was born.
This afternoon, planting some spring California poppy seeds in our backyard, I saw it.
One perfect wild violet, on its own in a clump of green leaves.
Happy Easter, Grandmother and Grandfather Todd, and thank you for the community, memories and stories.
And a very Happy Easter to you, as you create memories this Easter Sunday, and celebrate those you love.