She was shocked!
and not happy!
“What are all these bunnies and eggs doing out here?”
Mama was at her assisted living home, and she came out of her room to find the halls and entry area fully decorated like a preschool. Bunnies, birdies, lots of pastel eggs, and frou frou.
“Miss Susie, it’s Easter and we wanted to decorate for you all to enjoy!” One of the aides explained.
Mama’s disapproving frown did not leave her face.
She looked around some more.
Now, she took her stand. Hands on hips, in a clear voice she declared, “Easter is about Jesus. And His cross.”
Continuing in a serious voice, “That man DIED for us. . . “
She went on about her business, and so did the staff.
However, when Mama got up, got dressed, and put onher trade mark lipstick; she went out into the halls and to the entry area to find a different scene.
Very tasteful, adult appropriate, Christ centered decorations were arranged to remind everyone of what Easter is all about.
You know what you know.
You can stand up for what you believe.
You can still be a witness!
Mama may not have remembered lots of things. Micro vascular brain disease was stealing so much from her. But she knew who Jesus was and what He did. She knew what was most important.
My parents took me to church and went with me. I wasn’t put on a church bus by myself or dropped off. We went as a family.
There wasn’t a question, “Are we going to church tomorrow?”
I knew we were going.
Daddy got out his Sunday shoes on Saturday night. He put newspaper down on the floor, put his shoe shine kit on top, and proceeded to “spit polish” his shoes. I liked watching him, the smell of the waxy polish, and the transformation of the dull shoes to mirror bright.
Mama did her hair. She read her Sunday School lesson. Dad did, too. Sometimes they asked me to read it to them and “teach” them.
Mama and Daddy taught Sunday School at different times and Mama sang in the choir and in all the special music programs. She was part of a trio with her pure, clear soprano voice.
I sat with daddy while I was a little girl in the pew in the middle of the sanctuary. I looked at his brown, weathered hands that worked hard all week as an Illinois Central Rail Road Engineer. He always had clean nails and looked so handsome in his suit. Sometimes he would take my hand and hold it during the sermon. I felt loved, safe, and learned about God as I listened with him.
Easter was always special to us. I was blessed to grow up this way in church.
Do you know the “Man” Jesus Christ our Lord who died for us, rose again, and comes to save you?
Then make your voice be heard!
