I always loved Easter. Even as a kid who knew nothing about Jesus Christ or any religion really, I just loved Easter. And not just because of the all the Easter baskets full of candy or the imaginary giant rabbit (whom later in life took on a whole new meaning after viewing the Jimmy Stewart classic film, Harvey, but I digress), but because of its timing. Long before I learned of Christ’s life, death and Resurrection, I noted that Easter meant the long, cold Vermont winter’s I grew up in had come to an end and warmer weather, tree leaves, flowers and creatures of all sorts returned and the land sang with life once more. I associated Easter with the wondrously bright green color of new leaves opening on all the maple trees and new grass sprouting up through the brown, drab mat of the previous years dead grass. It meant being able to get on my bicycle and head out with friends for miles and miles of backroads; it meant not having to wear Thinsulate jackets and gloves and hats, no more Sorrell’s to wade through inches and inches and snow. I always loved Easter.
This year, Easter takes on a whole new kind of newness and wonder for me, as I will be, at long last, entering the Roman Catholic Church and joining in full communion with the fellowship of Saints of old and with the many millions of other Catholics around the world! I am grateful, very grateful, to leave at the feet of the Cross the many years of confusion and doubt which I accumulated. Today represents the best personal foot forward that I can recall in my lifetime. Did I mention I am feeling rather grateful?
For those familiar with my story, I ask only your prayers and I thank you for being supportive and for listening to my ramblings over the years. May God bless you all and give you every peace and joy!