Dear Easter,
So there were a lot of children in church this morning. And at some point, they asked all the children to come to the back of the church. They gave them all paper flowers, and then for a little while they were all held in a group back there before walking up the main aisle and placing the flowers on a cross.
All the little girls were standing there, wearing pink, and yellow, and blue dresses, with absurdly big bows in their hair and little velcroed dress-up shoes.
And they all stand there clutching their flowers, and holding hands, and twirling their hair, and giving each other hugs.
And the little boys are wearing little button up shirts and polos and slacks. Except one little boy was wearing track pants, and most of the shirts were very recently untucked.
And–and!–they were using their flowers as swords.
Their little Easter, fragile, paper, Jesus flowers.
Then all the children walk up the aisle, and then all of a sudden there are children everywhere. They’re wandering around, looking for their parents– and then they see them!– and they start climbing over pews and knees and stranger’s laps to get there. Because, I mean, if they went around, they might lose sight of them again. Better to go as the crow flies.
Obviously.
Happy Easter egg hunting in the rain! Oh, the memories…my sister crying because other kids were faster and more aggressive, me crying because I was too overwhelmed looking at all the kids running and couldn’t remember to look for eggs and therefore didn’t get any…my parents holding our own private hunt at home to stop the tears…
We were more, ahem, “readers” in our family. Really, really good at reading.
Love,
MM
