My favorite part of Easter has always been sunrise service. When I was a kid we would bundle up back in Kansas and head on out to Christian Hills, the church camp set outside of my hometown, Eureka, in the Flint Hills of southeast Kansas. We would walk from the main church camp lodge out to this cross on the hill when it was still dark. Blue jeaned with rollers in our hair, I can still remember dawns first light and the gathering of mostly youth, some parents as we huddled to hear Reverend Daniel's begin that Easter Day's first service.
Out in the Flint Hills the wind blows and the whippoorwill's call. Cattle sometimes will bawl. Some feel that it is a lonesome, desolate place. But the sounds, the smell of the grass and prairie always remind me of home. Then the cross on the hill reminds of Jesus ultimate sacrifice for us.
After the service, we all trucked back to the main lodge, chilled for hot chocolate, coffee and donuts. As we all shared our thoughts on the first service we then left for the more formal church services. I, personally, love the intimacy and the aloneness of the service with the cross on the hill.
As a child, Easter too, was all about the basket. The bunny who visited our house ever year with eggs, chocolate treats, and toys. I remember that once I thought I saw the real Easter bunny in the wild rose bushes that grew in the far corner of my grandparents yard. I was especially fond of the wind up metal rabbit who rode the bike that was nestled down in the green artificial grass of that year. Once it was a top to spin or the fuzzy yellow toy chick that hopped when pushed. One year we had colored chicks that were hot pink, turquoise blue, and green. We raised those chicks in a fenced in circle of a cage in the backyard in town on St. Nicolas street. They green to be the meanest chickens ever. I remember the day we loaded those grown chickens and rooster into the truck of my mommas car to take out to my grandparents, Mudd and Dirt, as they had gotten too mean to keep. For years, they terrorized us as children. I will never forget the time the rooster tried to spur my little sister. I threw a metal bucket on the top of him and pounded it with a broom. Not long after that my grandmother, Mudd, wrung it's neck and we had it for Sunday Dinner. She remarked, "It was tough ole bird even cooked in the pressure cooker".
We visited my grandparents on both sides on Easter. My grandmother Murphy made us Easter dresses in sherbert colors of cotton. Layers of ruffles in pink, blue, and yellow. We went to either Zenisheck's department store of Frock and Bonnet for my mother to purchase our Easter hats and gloves. Grigg's, I believe, Shoe Store for our Easter shoes which I fought one year for pink crocodile print Mary Janes. I loved those shoes.
Mother would line us up on the church stairs for the Easter photo. Or in either of grandparents yards with Easter baskets in tow. Grandma Murphy always made us Easter baskets out of recycled Clorox bottles. We would love to eat the peeps, chocolate marshmellow eggs but we never ate the jelly beans and candy colored sugar eggs. They were yuck!
Hunting for eggs at Mudd and Dirts was always so much fun. Afterwards we would take turn rehiding the boiled colored eggs and hunt again and again. One time, about six months later we found a colored egg hidden in the end of a stack of metal pipes. Boy, did it smell bad when we threw and broke it!
I was received my first Bible when I was in the third grade around Easter. It was white leather with Kathy Louise Murphy stamped in gold on the front cover. I still have it with all my years of Sunday School notes. I was baptized with my sisters around that time too.
For me Easter is very special. As my daughters, almost grown, slowly amble into our living room to discover their Easter baskets, I too, am filled with the wonder of Easter. As you celebrate your day and all of the happy memories don't forget exactly why we celebrate this day. As I now get ready to go to church this Easter morning, I remember the cross. Gather with those you love and share the stories. Share the story of Jesus.
God Bless You all this Easter morn and may we remember that today is a day to rejoice!
Tiara Wearing and Book Sharing,
Kathy L. Patrick
Founder of the Pulpwood Queens Book Clubs
Beauty and the Book
608 North Polk
Jefferson, Texas 75657
903-665-7520
www.beautyandthebook.com
www.pulpwoodqueen.com
www.southernauthors.blogspot.com and posting my next feature March 25th
www.ReadingGroupGuides.com and featured on the Blog page with the second part Monday!
