Growing up…
Easter was always a happy time. A time of renewal. It was a dress up occasion
in my family. I donned an Easter bonnet, fancy dress, pretty gloves and white patent leather shoes.
Before heading off to church, early in the morning, we got to see what the
Easter Bunny brought us. It was always a rainbow basket, wrapped with colored
cellophane paper. It was filled with green grass, decorated hardboiled eggs, a
chocolate cross, hollow panorama sugar eggs and a sandwich bag full of jellybeans,
that would spill out and get tangled up in the shiny grass. The tradition
continued well into my teens, thanks to my mom. When I was much older, married with a couple
children of my own… my grandmother died. It was around Easter. Although more years,
than I care to mention… have passed since then… the hurt of missing her,
lingers. So… whenever the holiday rolls around… I think of her, with fond
memories, one in particular. She had a
tough life. When my grandpa died she had to give up everything she had… and had to move in with my mom, dad, brother and I… because she couldn’t afford to live on
her own. That meant we got to come over to her house to help her downsize. There
were lots of prized possessions that were designated trash and went out to the
curb. But upstairs I found something that really caught my eye. It was hidden
treasure. It was trivial in the big scheme of things... but it was something
pretty extraordinary to me… as a little girl, exploring this big old house my
Nana lived in. Tucked carefully away, in the back of a closet… was a pretty
Easter Basket. It was different from the one the Easter Bunny usually gave me,
so it stood out. But I shrieked with delight when I saw what was inside it. In
it was an unopened bag of beautiful PINK grass. I had never seen PINK Easter grass
before. (I daresay, none of my friends had either, because they all celebrated
Passover. I couldn’t wait to show them.) This discovery was amazing. PINK
GRASS. It was magical. The stuff of fairytales. (Today you see pink everywhere, but back then you didn't.) I tenderly fondled it, as it
crackled beneath my fingertips. Imagine that? PINK GRASS. I just knew my Nana
had been saving it, especially for me, because ordinary GREEN grass wouldn’t do. No, that grass had to be something special. So PINK it was. Back in the day when conformity ruled, my grandmother DARED to be different. And that left a lasting message on
my heart, one that puts a smile on my face and a spring in my step to this day. ENJOY your EASTER and PASSOVER. HAPPY! HAPPY!
