Mar. 21, 2002 - 11:31 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

Grassy Nest

Remembering back into my early days it is hard for me to say this happened when I was five years old, four years old, three years old. Some things can be dated by, "When I was in fourth grade yadda, yadda, yadda and some are just remembered as being before I started school.

As near as I can remember my first knowing Easter happened like this.

I woke up to a warm sunshiny morning, knowing it was Sunday and looking forward to having the funnies read to me by my Dad. It comes to mind that I was more or less led to notice this basket on the floor over by the outside door. Taking a look, it looked funny and out of place to me. But I was told it is yours and with the automatic question on my face Mama said, "Its Easter Douggie."

I really didn't know from Easter, but having got nearer I recognized something I knew, egg shaped jelly beans of different colors, a whole gob of them. Right away I was for it, whatever name they wanted to put on the day. There was other stuff, little yellow chicks, some large eggshaped things wrapped in foil but my eye was on the known.

But before I could do a two handed dive into the goodies Dad herded me to the breakfast table. Good plates and good silver on top of a table cloth were not the usual Sunday routine. Bacon and eggs were pretty normal and milk with a bit of coffee was too but banana fritters, oh they were ambrosia to this boy.

While we were eating Dad said, "You can have a little of what is in your basket, but we are going to your uncle's to have dinner so you can't eat too much candy.

The plot thickens, a visit to my cousins was a bit out of the ordinary too. My little brain began to think, "Gee, Easter must be some big thing with all the fancy table ware favorite food and candy too." Something of that ilk, not my words as a little kid I am sure.

We arrived at my cousins, they were all in the front yard, as soon as I got out of the car my uncle told me. "This is an Easter egg hunt, around the yard maybe in places hens or rabbits wouldn't lay them are some eggs of different colors. You take a basket and whatever you find put in your basket." That too probably isn't his exact words, but near. Also my next thing had the meaning of, "Can I have what I find ?" I remember uncles reply verbatim, "Whatever you find is yours to keep."

This I guess was one of the most peaceful times I ever experienced over there. Each of us were intent on finding eggs. The first one I spotted was a blue, hard boiled egg, and here and there but staying in the yard we all found hardboiled, colored eggs.

I don't know if uncle had kept count or just eyeballed the situation but finally he said something to the order of, "That's all the eggs kids, now let's go in. Once inside we were told we could look at our eggs, but could not eat any of them because dinner would be served before long.

Extreme hardship for all, we all loved hardboiled eggs and were sitting with our baskets in front of us but were forbidden to so much as take a bite of one. The more time passed the hungrier we got, a psycho-physical hunger it was but it was there with us.

My girl cousins were finally called to help set the table and my boy cousin and I played a board game taked out from their window seat to pass the time, all the while each of us keeping an eagle eye on our eggs.

My aunt was a Pennsylvania Dutch lady and a superfine cook. Even during the depression she laid a great table. I loved the taste of every bite, until I had been pressed to eat some more several times. Darn it when I was full that was it for me. Regardless we sat until my aunt finished eating and laid her silverware down on her plate. Then one or the other of us boys would ask if we could be excused from table. Usually permission was granted if we had behaved at table.

He and I wandered out into the yard with our baskets of eggs, sat around looking at our eggs, admiring the colors. By mutual agreement we decided to not eat any eggs right then, without admitting we were too darn full.

The girl cousins cleared the table and aunt got the dishpan filled with hot water and soap, the rinse pans with plain hot water. Then my oldest cousin would start washing dishes like crazy, the next oldest drying and putting away the fine china and glassware, the other three of us were kept busy enough wiping the rest of the dishes and silverware. Dishes done and put away, we all did our thing. Three of us were of an age and went in to play Pollyana or Pachesi. When the game finished boy cousin and I went to watch the usual pinochle game between dad and my uncle.

Later on, seems like I was sitting, leaning against of piece of furniture, dozing. Mom tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Let's go home." I didn't have to strive to remember, I put on my sweater and grabbed my precious basket of eggs and followed them to the car, I fell asleep on the way home. Arriving home I was vociferously indignant that I couldn't stay up and eat candy. Don't know where I would have put it any way. Reluctantly I went to bed.

So ended the first Easter I remember. The next Easter I think was that I was taken over early and spent the night there. Awakened in the morning and instructed to wash, comb and dress. Then we went to their church to Sunday school. When we got back to their house there was candy and hardboiled eggs, etc. At that time I was told what Easter was about. Whatever religious instruction I got was from them and their church.

I never got the straight skinny on it but I guess Mom got scared out on churches down south. Neither She nor Dad ever sent me to Sunday school at home. Reminds me of a time when I was coming home from school and there was an itinerant photographer set up on the corner by the church taking pictures and getting the names and addresses of those of us adventurous enough to sit and get snapped. He came around a day or two afterward and Mom and Dad bought a copy in its cardboard frame. I guess Mom spotted it the minute she saw it and knew it was taken at the church on the corner near home. After the man went came the quizzing, was that a church thing ? Had I gone inside ? Did any church people speak to me ?

That night as I was drifting off to sleep I overheard Mom saying something like this to Dad, "Well, I guess he was on the up and up -- but there for a minute I thought the Baptists got Douggie." They hadn't then, I was married with four kids before I got dunked in the Baptistry.

Through my life Easter Sundays have been special to me, in adulthood I have remembered the reason for the season. But on my first remembered Easter this little pagan ate from the beautiful, sweet, Grassy Nest . . . . . . . .

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