dvi silkes

There’s something about writing a post for Easter that makes me think I should have something profound to say; that I should be full of descriptive joy for a day of such immense significance and meaning. But the truth is, I had been dreading Easter Sunday. A long-held tradition in our church is to gather near the shores of the Baltic Sea (or rather, in some semi-protective clump of dry shrubbery far enough away from the Sea that we can withstand the freezing wind) for a short service, followed by sharing breakfast and warmth in someone’s home. We enjoy the sense of community and simplicity in this very non-traditional gathering, but it comes with one very un-enjoyable side effect: it’s cold. It’s cold in that freezing, wet, Baltic wind kind-of-way that, to me, feels much colder than the worst Alberta winter.

When we woke up Easter Sunday morning, I was glad to see rays of sunlight coming through the window, though the memory of painfully frostbitten toes still prompted me to pull on as many layers of clothing as possible. Two shirts, two sweaters, tights, my new knee-high wool socks from Mom, jeans…and I was just getting started. Eventually, I waddled my well-padded bulkiness into the kitchen, where Nathan had discovered that the Easter Bunny came! He even found two cleverly disguised jellybeans – instead of the usual vitamins – sitting in his cereal bowl. Our Easter Bunny has learned a few tricks over the years. ☺

We caught the bus out to the local beach, and once everyone had arrived at our meeting place, we made our way up the slope to the peak of the beach. Surprisingly, the sun continued to shine, and the winds stayed calm. Still, I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets, bracing myself against the impending cold. But as our group walked across the soft, deep sand towards a quiet, grassy ridge, I realized that my feet weren’t freezing, and in fact, I hadn’t even put my toque on. Actually, we were all taking our time and enjoying the view of the sun glinting on the soft waves of the sea. Instead of huddling in a valley of sand, we gathered at the top of a ridge where we could look out onto the beach, and let our voices echo in song over the dunes. And there, gathered together as brothers and sisters, we exclaimed, “Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!”

Click here to link to a short video of us singing on the sand dunes.

Following our celebration on the beach, we squeezed everyone into the few vehicles that were there, and made the half hour trip to Modestas and Ramune’s house outside of town. Ramune arranged a simple and tasty breakfast of sliced sausage and cheese, dark bread, tomatoes, olives, yogourt with fruit, Easter bread, grapes and apples. Tadas brought a cold, white-meat meatloaf that was covered in almonds and shaped like a rabbit. We had never seen this particular Easter dish before, and it’s little bay-leaf ears made it almost too cute to eat. Of course, the kids had dyed hard-boiled eggs, and the game of cracking each other’s eggs (without cracking your own) was just as much fun for the adults as it was for the kids. Blobs of spicy horseradish add some zing to the eggs, and help you forget that you have just eaten someone’s artwork!

After lunch, a few of us headed off for a stroll through the nearby woods. As the sun continued to beam down on us, coats were unzipped, sweaters removed, and gloves were stowed away in pockets. It was a beautiful afternoon, and we had a fantastic time together, picking flowers, chatting, and listening to the thrum of hundreds of young frogs splashing in the creek.

We made it home well before supper, and though our apartment was much cooler than it was outside, we quickly peeled out of our layers and settled in to enjoy the long weekend. As I put away my gloves and tossed another jellybean into my mouth, I couldn’t help but be amazed at how unexpectedly fantastic this day had turned out. Not just because of the warm weather or good food, but the unexpectedness of joy. But then…that is the story of Easter, after all.