The vintage postcard on the left is filled with nostalgic images. It reminds me of the season through childhood eyes. Easter Sunday, I would reluctantly wake up–very early for sunrise service–motivated by the thrill of donning a new dress and white patent leather shoes, even a quirky white straw hat with daisies. Hard to believe it was the height of fashion for an eight-year-old. The Easter baskets would usually be waiting in the living room. Just a peek, now. Tearing in would have to wait until after church, Easter breakfast, and dinner at Grandma’s. I vividly remember yellow marshmallow peeps, colored eggs, and chocolate bunnies in pastel boxes. Grandma would add small toys and more candy. The egg hunt with the cousins increased our stash. I can’t recall ever eating everything, but the ears on the rabbit usually went first. Although I couldn’t help myself, an earless chocolate bunny is never quite the same.
The Closet Atheist on TEN THINGS NOT TO DO IF YOU DO… BREAKING GROUND | Se… on BREAKING GROUND Sharon L. Clemens on Home From Israel Jeanne Rogers on Home From Israel Sharon L. Clemens on An Autumn Barn Tour