Sweet Memories

Navigating the grocery cart so as not to tip a display, I was detoured to the festive aisle, one I had planned to visit another day. But the sweetness of the chocolate bunnies, marshmallow yellow chicks and caramel filled eggs begged. Into the carriage went an assortment of decadent treats for family of course … maybe a taste for me. The yearly specialties of Passover appeared, matzos and tasty macaroons. Tossing in several more packages, I looked forward to the children's happy smiles. Yet more importantly, it was that time of year, the season for renewal of faith...which is more awesome than chocolate.

I was reminded of one holiday long ago. I was stepping into the middle school years, or junior high as it was once called. I was awaiting Easter Sunday as never before. Why? My father had taken me shopping to buy a special dress.

Sitting on the bed, I admired the lovely violet and green floral creation that hung proudly on the closet door; imagining myself tomorrow. I would walk elegantly with the hemline swishing as the black leather shoes lightly tapped. Of course, my hair would be styled just so, accented with a decorative barrette. Turning to the open window, the light Spring air held promise for the following day.

Sunday morning arrived abruptly. There was a lot of commotion downstairs with anxious voices expressing urgency. We were late! Gone were the expectations of an egg hunt and a traditional breakfast. I tossed on my dress and hurried downstairs. Looking out the back door, the family stood with mouths open wide. Huge feathery snowflakes were piling on the sidewalk and the car. Snowing in April?

Even with the frosty conditions, we were soon settled into a pew, huddling close to be warm. I sat on my frozen hands and looked over at my brother and sister who had somehow managed to throw on their warm jackets and hats. But I had neither as my hands patted down my limp, wet hair and straighten my damp dress. Looking down, my new shoes were covered in mud. So much for being a teen beauty. I wanted to go home.

Suddenly the bold echo of trumpets and lively organ strains quickened my heart. Everyone stood, triumphantly singing sounding like angels had arrived. There was such expectation and excitement in every note. I had not experienced this before. As the sermon was delivered, the gospel came alive! My ears perked up as I took in every word … taking in what this day was all about. I felt very warm as a sense of peace and goodness wrapped around me.

This was the day I had intended to be shiny on the outside, except now I was shiny on the inside.

It was an awesome moment.

So much time has passed since then. I have forgotten how much I loved that new dress … but I will never forget that special Sunday. As the grass begins to green, and daffodils burst open, another special service will again call to me.

I can’t wait.

… and that’s how I live it.