Easter Memories

It was always fun to decorate eggs for the Easter egg hunt and fill the children's baskets with chocolate ones as well. Over in Germany, Volker Kraft started an Easter tradition in 1945 by hanging plastic eggs on a tree on his farm. Soon his wife and children were using real egg shells and it became a family tradition working for weeks before Easter to fill the tree. In 2011 there were 9,500 eggs so the fruit of their labor has added up to a very beautiful sight to see.

People must come from miles around to get a look at this tree. I thought there was a lot of work to dying a dozen eggs and cannot imagine the time and effort it takes to decorate this tree every year.

I wonder how soon the other trees will look like this. It seems to be a labor of love and a wonderful way to celebrate the Easter season.

I mentioned Holy Thursday in an e-mail this week which evoked memories of 'days of yore' and my friend Pauline asked if I kept the three hours of silence on Good Friday which brought back a myriad of memories of the Lenten season. As very young children we were steeped in the traditions of lent. Holy Week, now called Spring Break by many, sent us to Mass every morning, a trip to the alter for ashes on Ash Wednesday and the Stations of the Cross on Friday afternoons. Holy week was special as we got to wash the windows inside and out during the three hours of silence on Good Friday. Of course we started off being silent but the faces were made, the tongue sticking out and giggles soon overtook us and as hard as we tried silence did not prevail. Let me say our intentions were good. Today is Holy Saturday and this is the day when the priest blesses the water and the Pascal candle, traditions that are meaningful but long forgotten. The entire church is somber in its purple covers and once I worked with some ladies to lift a statue of the Blessed Mother down from a side altar. Two ladies had climbed up to lift the statue from the altar and I, Katrina the Great, thought I could stand under and guide the statue down. When they let loose, I got the full brunt of the weight and had to make a special trip to the doctor's office where I was introduced to the longest needle I've ever seen. It took awhile for the back to mend but the statue was saved. But Easter Sunday the entire church would come to life and gave us a reason to celebrate as the music started loud and clear and the choir voices rang out. Yeah . . . traditions do have a special place in our lives; sad there have been so many changes within the church and within ourselves.

So today, the beginning of your Easter weekend, think about some of the old traditions you used to celebrate and take a mental walk down memory lane and enjoy some of the sights and sounds of Easter. Easter . . . Hope . . . Courage . . . Love! What more could we ask for? Hugs to all.