Here we are, Good Saturday 2009: the day before Easter. When I was a kid, this meant Easter Vigil at church Saturday night, playing and singing in the folk group, and going to my grandmother's in Brooklyn the next day. My grandmother made delicious sweet Easter bread, a tradition my mother has thankfully picked up since her passing. I tried to buy some Easter candy for the kids yesterday, but this section of Queens is far too kosher. How can I get through the day without Reeses peanut butter eggs?
To me, Easter was the Halloween of the spring, except instead of having to go door to door begging for candy, the candy came to you. You still had to dress up to get some (in a suit as opposed to a costume,) and you had to go to church, but still, you got candy. I always felt gypped that it was supposed to be this big holiday, but it was never on a school day. Sure, we got Good Friday off, but as my parents insisted we spend the day watching the Catholic school kids reenact the stations of the cross, there really wasn't any joy in it. The television was kind enough to provide us with specials, but we weren't allowed to watch them. "What does Charlie Brown have to do with Easter?" my parents would cry. One time I drew a picture of Snoopy on the cross just to show them. They were not amused. When my son was three, my mother tried to explain it to him, saying that Easter is the day when Jesus comes out of his hole in the ground. "Yep," I chimed in. "And if he sees his shadow, it will be six thousand more years of winter." Again, she was not amused.
So for the secular and faithful alike, Happy Easter and a belated Zissen Pesach, have a good day with lots of eggs, candy, bread, food, and family, and whatever you wish.