Easter in Southwest Virginia

Picture this: Its a beautiful, warm, sunny Sunday morning in April. You're getting ready to go to church with your grandmother. Your grandmother is a beautiful older lady, and she's never looked prettier than this, her black hair carefully curled and coifed, and she has an orchid pinned to the lapel of her best Sunday-go-to-meetin' dress. You also look very pretty and you know it. You have a brand new pink Easter dress with a white straw hat and white tights with a pair of brand new black patent leather shoes. There is no driveway to your house, so you and your grandmother start walking around the side of a hill to get to a bridge to cross the creek that surrounds the family farm on 2 sides. The Easter lillies planted by the gate are blooming bright yellow and white against the backdrop of their dark green leaves. You walk through the field, smelling fresh growing things. When you get to the path that leads through the woods, the final few feet before the bridge, you notice that the trees are budding, and see a squirrel trying to remember where he buried last year's acorns and hickory nuts. You round a small turn in the path, and the entire hillside is covered in small white flowers called snowdrops. They only bloom for a short while each year, then wither away until next year. The birds are singing and you are very happy.

When you get to church, everyone is happy to see you. Its a small community, and a small church, so you know everyone by their first name. You have friends there, and you haven't seen them since last week, so you're really happy to see them. Everyone looks so good in their Easter finery, the ladies' dresses are every color of the rainbow, and the smell of perfume, both cheap drugstore perfume and the more expensive department store brands are in the air. When the service starts, you settle in to watch an Easter play about how Jesus died for our sins and was resurrected on Easter Morning, giving us hope for life after we pass from the earthly realm. Songs are sung, handshakes and hugs are given freely, and you feel like you truly belong.

After church, the family gathers at Mawmaw's house for an Easter Dinner. Mawmaw puts her apron on and commences to reheating what she had cooked yesterday in preparation. Ham, turkey, her special dressing, macaroni salad, and pies of every flavor adorn the kitchen table, the counter tops, and even the top of the stove. All your cousins are there, your first cousins come with your aunt and uncle, your great uncle and his wife bring their son and daughter, your mom is there, everyone is happy and laughing. You stuff yourself as full as you can, and when everyone is finished eating, you wait impatiently while the adults finish hiding the eggs. The eggs are works of art in themselves, beautiful in their many colors. Some of the eggs are real, having been boiled and dyed. Other eggs are plastic and filled with candy. All are bright and festive. Finally, when all of the eggs are found, dinner cleaned up, everyone's gone home, you fall asleep exhausted, but very, very happy.

Its childhood memories like these that get me through my everyday life as an adult. Too often in the modern era we forget traditions like these and family gets shuffled to the sidelines. Happy Easter everyone, and may you all find more eggs than everyone else.