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Heartwings Love Notes 771 - Easter time Remembrances

Heartwings says, "Memories glow in the cycle of time when the time comes around again."

While I certainly have some happy Easter memories I also have one that is not so. However, it is still vivid in my mind even after the
many years filled with all the things I surely have forgotten. This was during World War II. My parents kept chickens, both for eggs
and for food. We had quite a large flock of hens and, as I recall a rooster or two. There were times when they laid many more eggs
than we needed. As anyone who has kept them will know, chickens lay in cycles, sometimes more eggs sometimes less. When we
had overage, my parents would sell the eggs to friends and acquaintances.

This particular Easter I might have been eight or ten. My parents had so many eggs they decided to have an Easter egg hunt. All of
their friends and most of their acquaintances had children so there were plenty of guests anticipated. The adults would have cocktail,
while the children hunted for eggs. The person who found the most got a prize. While they hid them, I was to stay in my room so I
would not see where they were. Later they decided I ought not to participate because it was up to the guests to find the eggs.

Fast forward to a happy memory: Once my oldest daughters were grown enough to know about the Easter bunny they decided there
ought to be one for the parents. Their father and I hid candy eggs for them and their siblings in various places in the house. They in
turn spent their own money for candy eggs for us and hid them in the kitchen, having they told us it was off limits for us to use to
hide eggs. Their great delight was a joy to our hearts, and what fun we had uncovering the treasures the Parent Easter bunny had
provided.

Holidays often trigger memories of days gone by. These can be a treasure to hold and caress, most especially if they concern those
who have passed on from this life. If there is sadness for us in them, perhaps it can be tempered by the happiness of our
recollections. The most precious memories are those that remain for us to recount and perhaps to share with those who come after
us. I once recorded my father on tape telling me about the chickens he had as a boy. There were only a few and they didn't last long.
Perhaps they were the inspiration for the ones he had as an adult that laid the eggs I remember so well.

May your remembered joys temper any sadness that the memories.
 

I love to hear from readers and would be honored if you would comment and let me know any suggestions or thoughts. If a friend sent you this, you can sign up at my web site, www.heartwingslovenotes.com, where more love notes can be found in the archives.

Blessings and Best Regards,
Tasha Halpert
 

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