He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Matthew 28:6
My Easter memories consist of new Sunday dresses sewn by my mother, full Easter baskets, and beautiful blue hydrangeas.
Every Easter Sunday we would gather at Mama’s to celebrate our Risen Savior. Just outside her carport to the right was the most beautiful blue hydrangea bush brimming with blossoms. All the little boy and girl cousins would quickly run by them in a game of chase or hide-and-seek. Yet, last night as I paused to give thanks for the white hydrangeas on my dining room table what filled my mind were the beautiful blue flowers of my childhood Easters of many years ago. The hydrangeas are why I choose the colorful mix from the supermarket initially.
My own mother, as she would remember the women traveling early to anoint the Savior, would spend many hours sewing my sister and I beautiful smocked Easter dresses. Her loving stitches graced many smocked dresses that my little girl wears as she grows and as my sweet newborn niece, Anna Bell, will wear in like fashion.
What Easter memories are we sowing into our children and heritage? When they are grown and making a new home of their own, what will they remember of their childhood Easter’s?
Last night, I tacked the sides of my daughters beautifully smocked pink Easter dress my mom purchased for Emily. As I feebly attempted to stitch, I marveled at my mothers gift of sewing and creating those beautiful dresses each year. I wondered how a mother learns to accomplish all that her children need. Did my mother’s and father’s efforts feel as novel to them as they do to me?
This year, on my table are white hydrangeas, but in my heart are memories of blue.
Praise Jesus our Savior is risen! May we be like beautiful blue hydrangeas and testify of the goodness of our Creator and Christ our savior this day and always.
