Happy Easter to
my readers.
For
many Christians it is the biggest religious feast, for all happy memories for
the days when they are older and have raised children themselves; these
memories will stay forever and are passed on. I have told my children and
grandchildren with much pleasure of the preparations we children did for these
days and of the pure bliss on Easter Sunday when the sinister days with all its
stories were over. Did you know that the term Easter or in German Ostern has
developed from the Anglo-Saxon goddess Eostre and that in non-English speaking
countries the feast is referred to as Pascha Feast, the Passover? You know how
you wish Happy Easter in other languages? Afrikaans: Geseende Paasfees! In
Danish: God Paske; in Dutch: Vrolijk Pasen; in French: Joyeuses Paques; Portuguese:
Boas Pascuas; in Greek: Kalo Pasha; in Hawaian; Hau oli Pakoa; in Italian:
Buona Pasqua; in Latin: Prospera Pascha sit; in Zulu: IPhasika elijabulayo; and
in Turkish: Paskalya bayramınız
kutlu olsun.
In most of the traditional Easter meals we find lamb
included as the image of sacrifice and eggs as the symbol of life. The days of
my childhood are very vivid in my mind; at our house Easter coincided with
spring cleaning and we kids had to help the maid but we did it with full
excitement as the smell of floor wax mingled with the smell of the easter plait
or bagels, and the scent of fresh green twigs distributed to all vases around
the house for Green Thursday made it all very festive. On Good Friday we
usually had a bad thunderstorm with hail and everything and we kids watched the
godly anger coming through the clouds from a secure place. Finally on Saturday we tried to catch a
glimpse of the parents dyeing or painting the eggs and preparing the nests for
the Easter Bunny, of which our mum still thought we would believe in. Early the
next morning, we watched from behind the curtains the grownups steal out into
the garden and hide all the coloured eggs and chocolates. I remember Easter
Sundays only in full sunlight, with flowers in the meadows, the young birds
twittering in their nests and our stockings rolled down for the first time in
the year. One of my sons who will come and visit us this year for Easter told
me on the phone, Mom, don’t you dare thinking that I am too old to look for our
Easter eggs in the garden (he is 44 years old).
So many traditions have survived in other
countries, I observed them during our sailing life in many villages, such as
burning a puppet made of old clothes from each household to symbolically burn
Judas Ischariot; in some places people throw ceramics out of the window to
throw away evil. In Cyprus they light big fires and also burn dolls. But all of
them have in common the decorating of eggs, where the colour red dominates in
many countries. Most beautiful traditional designs have developed and are
famous; I have also hand-painted empty ones which I have kept for many years
and hang up in fresh branches each Easter.
There is a rather rude tradition in Eastern
Europe, that is the spanking and whipping of women to keep them busy, fresh and
beautiful; can you believe it? But it is apparently not hurtful as women thank
the men by giving them some money and an egg as a thank you.
They also say that the church bells are silent
for two days before Easter because they fly down to Rome to bring back Easter
eggs and chocolate which are then dropped in the gardens for the children.
It is often healthy to forget some memories but
it is heart refreshing to have the ones like Easter memories. May they be happy
ones for you.