Easter

Dear friends-

Happy Easter!

As a child Easter meant many different things to me. Sunday morning
my brothers and sister would run out to find Easter baskets filled
with jelly beans, gold foil colored eggs and coins and these
beautiful eggs that held all sorts of treasures. The smell of hot
crossed buns, eggs, Canadian bacon and coffee came out of the
kitchen. At some point we had jelly bean hunt, running through the
house finding jelly beans on mantles, window sashes and behind
pictures. At some point we all sat down for breakfast and then it was
time to get ready for church. There were the occasional years where
we would go up the hill behind the elementary school at 6AM, climbing
up to greet the sun, while singing hymns and thinking of Jesus

Then there was that period of time in my life where Easter did not
really mean much. But then my daughter was born and I remember
punching holes in the ends of eggs and blowing out the insides to
provide for the Easter eggs she was going to dye. And that was it for
a while. Make it fun for my children.

And then one day I found out the meaning of Easter. A man named
Jesus. Died and rose for me. Hmmm. Suddenly the eggs and the candy
took on a new meaning. A celebration of life AND death. Certainly
Easter is different now than it was. I recently heard this story and
in the spirit of the season would like to share it.

The mother of a nine-year-old boy named Mark received a phone call in
the middle of the afternoon. It was the teacher from her son's school.

"Mrs. Smith, something unusual happened today in your son's third
grade class. Your son did something that surprised me so much that I
thought you should know about it immediately." The mother began to
grow worried.

The teacher continued, "Nothing like this has happened in all my
years of teaching. This morning I was teaching a lesson on creative
writing. And as I always do, I tell the story of the ant and the grasshopper:

"The ant works hard all summer and stores up plenty of food. But the
grasshopper plays all summer and does no work.

"Then winter comes. the grasshopper begins to starve because he has
no food. So he begins to beg, 'Please Mr. Ant, you have much food.
Please let me eat, too.'" then I said, "Boys and girls, your job is
to write the ending to the story."

"Your son, Mark, raised his hand. 'Teacher, may I draw a picture?'

"'Well, yes, Mark, if you like, you may draw a picture. But first you
must write the ending to the story.'

"As in all the years past, most of the students said the ant shared
his food through the winter, and both the ant and the grasshopper
lived. A few children wrote, 'No, Mr. Grasshopper. You should have
worked in the summer. Now, I have just enough food for myself.' So
the ant lived and the grasshopper died.

"But your son ended the story in a way different from any other
child, ever. He wrote, 'So the ant gave all of his food to the
grasshopper; the grasshopper lived through the winter. But the ant died.'

"And the picture? At the bottom of the page, Mark had drawn three crosses."

Easter is fun for me. I have three grandchildren. They get candy and
eggs and all the fixings. But they get the story, as well. This year
all but my son Matthew(Albuquerque) will be home. Because of college
schedules, etc., we will be having dinner tomorrow. It will be a busy
and fun time.

Many things are going on here.
We are still trying to make a decision about the issues we had with the water.
We just went through the same sex debacle here in Vermont.
We complete our ten weeks of our "School" we have been teaching at
Village Church.
And we are trying to figure out next steps. Will it be move? Stay?
Join something?

We are not sure. We do know that the Lord's hand is on the wheel.

To you and your family have a blessed time this weekend.

For the Lord is our strength.

Blessings,
Lee