The Serenity of Easter

Like most children, a year's passage was marked by the holidays, starting from the last day of school. While most holidays held excitement and anticipation, Easter, for me, held and still holds a feeling of tranquility and peace. I went to a school run by our Lutheran Church. On Good Friday, while there were no classes, we went to school for half a day, spending most of it in the sanctuary where we rehearsed our songs for Easter Sunday.

Young as I was, I always felt sad when I entered the church on Good Friday. The lights were dim, the altar was draped in black cloth and even the beautiful stained glass windows seemed to be dull and sad and if it was raining, I would shudder, thinking that the angels were weeping. I, of course, had always known the Easter Story and knew deep inside that by Sunday, everything would be bright and beautiful again, but I still couldn't help feeling as if the joyous songs we rehearsed shouldn't have been more subdued for that Friday.

I remember vividly that once the rehearsals were over, we left not only the sanctuary very quietly, but the school as well. There was none of the laughing, yelling, or playing that we usually participated in on other last days of school. Something seemed to touch even the youngest children.

By Saturday evening, the feelings of sadness were gone. As my brother and I sat around the table, coloring eggs for the Easter Bunny to hide, there was a quiet excitement in anticipation for the next day. Once we were done, we cleaned up the dishes, took our baths and my mother would roll up my hair with bobby pins, hoping against hope that my hair would stay curled for more than a couple of hours in the morning. It never did.

On Easter Sunday, we would wake up to the smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee. But for some reason, my brother and I didn't rush out to the kitchen as we would have on other holidays. We came out slowly and quietly, as if we too felt the awe of the fact that He had arisen. We would sit down to breakfast and admire our colorful baskets while we ate. We were allowed one small piece of candy from our basket, but nothing else until we got to my grandmother's house after church.

My mother and I would go into one room after breakfast, while my brother and dad would go off into another, so that we could get ready for church. We always wore new clothes on Easter Sunday. My mother would buy me a white dress, shoes, hat, gloves, and socks with the warning to not get them dirty. Invariably, no matter how careful I was, there would be at least one small stain or one scuff mark on something before we even left the house, but not discovered until we were on the church steps. I would then be chastised a bit and would enter the church feeling slightly upset. I would quietly take my place with my classmates and stare down at my shoes, sulking. But as the church quieted and the organ began to play, I would look up at the pulpit and notice that the black crepe was gone and in it's place were beautiful while lilies. As my class and I stood up to sing, I couldn't help but think of how much brighter and happier the church looked. Gone was the bleakness and the sadness. There was only the quiet joy.

Arriving at my grandmother's my brother and I would skip in to her house. On other holidays we would have run in, but running didn't seem appropriate. Not only were the Easter baskets the first things we saw, but I also noticed that there would be fresh Easter lilies here as well. I would go up to them and touch their waxy whiteness, awestruck once again by how they seemed to light up the room even more so than all the pastel colors of Easter.

After lunch, my brother, cousins, and I would go outside for an Easter egg hunt. We would then come in and share our treasures with each other, slightly envying the one person who had found the "golden" egg. We never received toys on Easter, but we would sit quietly and play the games my grandmother kept for us. And in the evening, we would go home, take our baths, and go quietly to bed.

Whenever I'm feeling stressed, I think about those long ago days. I picture in my mind the beauty of the lilies, the quiet joy we felt, the serenity we all experienced and I thank Him for those happy memories.