Easter

Just as it seemed that Spring might be here, the snow returned. It was a weak performance, but nevertheless it was enough to remind me of Easters past. There was a time in my life when I went to church, and Easter was a big day. No matter how many years went by with only a hint of good weather to come, I always got a new spring outfit for church. It usually included a new coat and hat, as well as gloves. The coat was lightweight and the hat was cheerful. The white gloves were thin, the shoes had slippery soles. My lips were blue by the time I reached church. My shoes were covered with slush, my feet freezing, my hands stiff with cold. Nevertheless, I don't remember regretting the walk or my outfit.

One year the youth group at church decided to go to Cadillac Mountain and have a sunrise service on Easter. We left in the dark, drove to Bar Harbor and up the mountain. The wind was blowing hard and it was snowing a little. Still, we huddled together, teeth chattering, on a big rock and waited. Of course we could not see the sun come up through the clouds and snow, but we valiantly held the service anyway as it grew light. It was certainly memorable.

Anyway, I guess that here in Maine we pretend that Spring will be here by Easter and act accordingly. No matter that in my sixty-odd years of expecting it, it has never happened. Perhaps it would be depressing to face the reality that it will be another month before the weather really changes, especially here on the coast. I doubt it, though. We anticipate it longer, but it is so glorious here it is worth the wait. It's a little like knowing there is ice cream in the freezer, but you can't have it yet. When it finally happens, it's so much better for the waiting.