Sometimes holding an annual event
Can be well…dicey. Expectations increase.
People can get tired of the same thing.
The odds for good weather decrease.
Not so if children are involved
And Easter eggs filled with candy.
So, yesterday we hosted the 3rd
I’d say it’s safe to say Annual 1st Presbyterian Church Easter Egg.
Each year Kay, master of children’s Christian education
Mixes things up a bit.
And this year we decided to invite the families
Of our neighboring church St. Matthews Episcopal.
We have been lucky with the weather all these years.
And this year was no exception.
It was a glorious afternoon.
And to top it off The Redbud trees were still in full bloom
Providing a marvelous backdrop for
The blanket of tulips leading up to the garden house.
Now you realize this is just luck.
No gardener has any say about when things bloom in the spring.
And if you try to plan it – it simply will not happen.
So you might as well just give it up
And hope for the best.
This is an attitude I’ve had to learn.
Fortunately, I had an excellent teacher.
My mother was the most relaxed hostess I’ve ever known.
Oh she would get “flustered” as she would say.
But she learned during the wild ride of her life.
To relax and enjoy it.
So yesterday as 50 or 60 children
(We don’t really know how many came.)
Were running through the garden.
Releasing lady bugs
Listening to the resurrection story
Exploring the compost pile
Trying out the chimney of the outdoor fireplace
And gathering Easter Eggs
One child brought back a wonderful memory of my mother
And the grace that she showed so many people during her life.
It happened during a family Sunday School Class party
Of many of these very people.
It was in the late 1980’s and we decided to have the party
At my parent’s home in the city.
Big house – big yard – big draw.
Dozens of us showed up and swarmed the place.
At one point several young mothers were standing in the kitchen
Visiting with mother as Cristina, maybe 3 or so
Appeared with a bouquet of flowers for the hostess.
Freshly picked from her own flower beds.
Beth, her mother, turned ashen.
Mother bent down and thanked
And likely hugged Cristina.
She was thrilled with the gift.
When I noticed Kay’s granddaughter
Walking along the garden house path
Snapping off tulips
What a gift this memory is.
Children and Gardens and God.
If you don’t have children to invite into your garden.
I hope you’ll find some
To teach about nature