Hallelujah Italian Easter

Verona. Easter Morning. We awakened to an Easter Buffet beyond description in our hotel. The likes of this spread of food we had yet to witness -- let alone participate. There were at least a half-dozen different sorts of cheese cake affairs.... for breakfast! I can't even begin to remember the various types of croissants we got to select from. To go on from my memory would make you think I'm making up details. Let's just agree that it was an amazing assortment of delights, the likes of which should only be made available once a year.

We had decided the evening before that we would attend the local Easter service in the church right down the block. We had also pre-determined that we would arrive right as the service was scheduled to begin and stay in the back, as 'observers'. We were not the only ones to make this decision. With every seat of every pew packed to the edges there were at least a hundred of us standing together between that last pew and the back wall. Massed for the mass.

I was transported during the sermon. It was delivered in Italian, of course. I was transported to every previous Easter celebration in my mind and heart. Hearing the Italian from the pulpit and not knowing one word, made for a very easy transition to my piecing together fragments of sermons from years & years of celebrations past. At times I would punctuate my mind's memories with trumpet sound and full brass choir. "He is Risen. He is Risen, Indeed!" Fragments of the Hallelujah chorus. A children's sermon about butterflies. An illustration using an analogy of dogwood lore. A camp-song or two. An Easter bonnet. A reference to the sand dollar shell's delicate angels inside. Memories of the Passion Walk we used to re-enact along the summer camp creek bed. New patent leather shoes. Images and references of resurrection mingled with Breast Cancer survivorship feelings and emotions. Jelly beans sprinkled in with the empty tomb. From childhood innocence to grandma reflections..... All in all, the Easter sermon 2011, of which I understood not one word being preached from above, was most uplifting. Having a treasure trove, an entire lifetime of memories to draw upon is a blessing indeed.

"He is Risen. He is Risen, INDEED!"