The Rituals Of Easter To A PK

Having been raised in a minister’s home, I have some strong memories of the religious holidays. Christmas and Easter were the main ones as a kid, I recall the most. I think that was because there was candy involved. Easter would mean the rituals would commence.

New Clothes: Easter mean that several weeks before the actual holiday, my two sisters and I would be hustled out to JC Penney’s for a Easter outfit. It had to be a new outfit, not my dust dungarees that I loved and I am sure God loved also. God Loved me, so God must love what I love. I was assured that God did not like or love dirty little boys on Easter morning.

Church: Before anything, we had to go to church. It kind of comes with being a PK (preacher’s kid). Now as a young lad, I was not the most patient child. I had things to do, and church was a LOOONNNNGGGG time sitting listening to your dad preach. Oh, and off the topic for a moment, as a PK you avoid trouble because your dad has this insane ability to talk and explain that lasts FOREVER.

Family Dinner: We got to play while that adults set the big table and found all the chairs. The seven of us would gather around (Me, two sister, mom and dad, and grandpa and grandma). We would all grab hands, bless the food and wait for it to circle around the table. No jumping up and grabbing the potatoes.

Washing Dishes: That was my chore, I hated it and loved it at the same time. I did not like having to work, but it was some of the most peaceful time in the day. I could separate myself and just be alone and work on my task. I don’t recall anyone ever helping, though I suppose they did. It always seemed to me to be a solitary task. Maybe they were glad to have the rambunctious boy occupied for a time.

Baskets: Each child got a basket and it was on the credenza in the living room. Not a premade basket, but one that mom and dad had created. Candies, and eggs and small toys. By the way the eggs were real hard boiled eggs, not the plastic hollow ones. My favorite was the jellybeans. I relished finding each last one in the green plastic grass.

And with that, Easter was over. Dad and Grandpa would sit and talk about the farm and how the trees were doing. My sisters would launch into play in the living room. I would quietly sneak out and over to the church. I was in awe of the significance that Easter played in life, without fully understanding it. I would sit in the pews and just absorb the silence. For me, Easter was not about the rituals or the candy, ok maybe the jellybeans. It was about the events of history, of the man and his trials.

This year, no church service. Just a couple of bags of M&Ms. Watched the NCAA Women’s Championship. Grateful that a man so long ago decided that I was worthwhile. Happy Easter

Categories: Editor Thoughts

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