Unitarian Easter is not a big deal,
although my cousins and I dyed eggs, we had an egg hunt at church,
and my parents gave me a basket every year until I had Betsey, when
they gave her a basket. I always made baskets for the dog and cat.
My friends got new dresses, but as my
mother pointed out, it was usually too cold for spring dresses and
they had to wear coats. I wore my “nice pants” (the ones that
weren’t jeans – my mother was old fashioned that way) and
whatever shirt was clean.
My grandmother or one of my aunts would
have everyone over for dinner. One year, I found a lamb made of
butter holding a red plastic flag and sitting in a bed of green
Easter grass at the grocery store and begged my mother to let me take
it to the dinner.
She said, “All right, but let’s not
tell Daddy.”
I asked why and she looked
uncomfortable. “Let’s make it a surprise.”
My cousins loved the lamb, even after I
told them it was butter and not white chocolate, and my grandmother
kissed me and told me it was beautiful
The others weren’t so enthusiastic.
My father snorted and Uncle Hank said
it was meaningless superstition. Then my grandfather, who had been
raised an Episcopalian, but had broken his parents’ hearts be
becoming an atheist in college, said that Those People didn’t think
it was meaningless; the lamb represented Jesus, who supposedly was
killed for everyone’s sins so they wouldn’t go to Hell. He
started singing “Oh Lamb of God/Sweet Lamb of God . . . Oh, wash me
in your precious blood . . .” Jessica wailed, “Oh, the poor
lamb!” and Jennifer started crying.
Aunt Pooh stepped in and said that even
though it was almost dinner time, we could each have one piece of
candy. Jennifer wiped her eyes and said, “How about two?”
We did get two pieces and no one’s
appetite was spoiled. The lamb stayed on the table, but every year
after that my mother went food shopping by herself around Easter.
“Lamb of God” is one of my favorite
hymns, although some priests don’t use it for fear it will scare
off newcomers. Cilla loves to sing it around the house, although
Betsey says she is a big moron who doesn’t understand what it
means.
