Skip to main content

Easter Sunday

Today as I was out doing my last minute end of the holiday shopping I saw several women wearing great Easter hats and several little girls wearing beautiful frock coats.  Winter in New York usually ends before Easter, so wearing beautiful straw hats and pastel spring coats makes perfect sense. 

I grew up in Quincy, Massachusetts. Spring usually needs an additional three weeks before it arrives.

 For several years my sisters and I took Sunday morning piano lessons from the patient Mrs. Zack.  Mrs. Zack lived near the top of Mount Wollaston in the Merrymount section of Quincy.  Her house was next to an undeveloped tract of land. I have vivid memories of an Easter morning with a full on blizzard. As my sisters had their turns having their lessons with Mrs. Zack I watched family after family all decked out in their Easter best walking to church.  It was a vision seeing all of those girls in their white Easter mary-janes, lacy socks, pastel spring coats and straw hats all walking through the blizzard to church.

At that moment it seemed to be both supremely silly to wear those light weight clothes on such a snowy day but also a profound declaration of faith.

I usually got a new fancy outfit before the high holidays and one before Passover. Given the reality of weather in Quincy, I usually wore the  wintry Rosh ha Shanah outfit for Passover and the springy Passover outfit for Rosh haShanah.

Happy end of Passover and a Happy Easter.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Connecting with the past

A few months ago I had a craving for my father’s chicken fricassee.  If my father were still alive I would have called him up and he would have talked me through the process of making it.    My father is no longer alive so I turned to my cookbooks and the recipes I found for chicken fricassee were nothing at all like the stew of chicken necks, gizzards and wings in a watery sweet and sour tomato sauce that I enjoyed as a kid.  I assumed that the dish was an invention of my father’s. I then attempted to replicate the dish from my memory of it and failed.   A couple of weeks ago I saw an article on the internet, and I can’t remember where, that talked about Jewish fricassee  and it sounded an awful lot like the dish I was hankering after. This afternoon I went to the butcher and picked up all of the chicken elements of the dish, a couple of packages each of wings, necks and gizzards. My father never cooked directly from a cook book. He used to re...

The light themed tallit has been shipped!!!

 I had begun speaking to Sarah about making her a tallit in the middle of August. It took a few weeks to nail down the design. For Sarah it would have been ideal if the tallit were completed in time for her to wear it on Rosh HaShanah., the beginning of her year as senior rabbi of her congregation. For me, in an ideal world, given the realities of preparing for the High Holidays I would have finished this tallit in the weeks after Sukkot. So we compromised and I shipped off the tallit last night.  I would have prefered to have more time but I got the job done in time. This tallit was made to mark Sarah's rise to the position of senior rabbi but it was also a reaction to this year of darkness. She chose a selection of verses about light to be part of her tallit. 1)  אֵל נוֹרָא עֲלִילָה  God of awesome deeds ( from a yom kippur Liturgical poem) 2)  אוֹר חָדָשׁ עַל־צִיּוֹן תָּאִיר   May You shine a new light on Zion ( from the liturgy) 3)  יָאֵר יְהֹ...

A Passover loss

 My parents bought this tablecloth during their 1955 visit to Israel. It is made out of  linen from the first post 1948 flax harvest. The linen is heavy and almost crude. The embroidery is very fine. We used this cloth every Passover until the center wore thin.  You can see the cloth on the table in the background of this photo of my parents and nephew My Aunt Sheva bought my mother a replacement cloth. The replacement cloth is made out of a cotton poly blend. The embroidery is crude and the colors not nearly as nice. The old cloth hung in our basement. We used the new cloth and remembered the much nicer original cloth. I loved that my aunt wanted to replace the cloth, I just hated the replacement because it was so much less than while evoking the beauty of the original. After my father died my mother sat me down and with great ceremony gave me all of her best tablecloths. She also gave me the worn Passover cloth and suggested that I could mend it. I did. Year after year ...