Becky Says...

April 2007

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Happy Easter! - April 8

I'm sitting here in North Carolina wearing my Easter outfit, a gray sweat shirt and navy sweat pants. Accessorizing the outfit is a blue afghan. We're in the midst of a cold snap, and winter's warm clothes feel pretty good.

I've been remembering some Easters past.

One of the ones on my mind is fifty years ago, which was a warmer day than today. It is memorable because it was the last Easter my father was alive. My mother was recuperating from surgery, so Daddy and I were on our own for an after-church walk around town. I love that I have that memory.

Jumping ahead a lot of years to the early 1990s, there was a story I told several years ago. I'm retelling it today because some of you haven't read it, and because it's another of my favorites.

This happened back in my fairly conservative little hometown. You may recall that the pastor of my church had a wife also named Becky. She and I knew each other fairly well, and often stopped to chat when we ran into each other doing errands. Such was the case the day before Easter that year.

We were in the aisle at the grocery store, talking about the fact that the weather had turned warmer than had originally been forecast for the weekend. This was giving us both reason to rethink what we planned to wear to church the following day. Becky was planning to go to the sunrise service, while I was planning to go to the later one. One or the other of us said we were seriously tempted to wear shorts, and the other agreed that would be nice.

Came Sunday, and I put on something much less likely to get me in trouble with the rest of the congregation than shorts---probably a dress. And off I went to church. So far, so good. Then we get to the part of the service where the people are supposed to wish each other God's peace.

That's where the fun came. I was sitting with some cousins, in the second or third pew back from the front. And that was in the territory where the pastor usually came, hand extended to share the peace. He happened to get to me last, since I was the end person in that row. He wished me God's peace, then said, "Becky didn't wear shorts, either." Out loud. And on that note, with people staring at both of us, the man turned around and went back toward the altar.

I'm sure more people heard the comment than my hastily-whispered explanation, but it's okay. Those who didn't hear the rest of the story probably just thought I was trying to import a trend from liberal Chapel Hill.

So there you have two of my favorite Easter memories. My hope for this one is that the peace and grace of the season and the day be with all, regardless of beliefs, nationality, or any of the things that serve to divide us.

Text © copyright 2000-2007 Becky