Lent and Easters I Have Known

Lent and Easters I Have Known

   I was raised Roman Catholic, so we observed both Lent and Easter.   A brief bit of explanation.  Being Roman Catholic back then (pre-Vatican II in 1965) meant going to church (mass) every Sunday and Holy Day of Obligation.  Mass was in Latin and lasted about an hour.  There was no Sunday School-whole families sat together for mass.  Since I didn't go to Catholic school, I attended religious training once a week after school with the other public school Catholic kids.  The nuns terrified us.  We were also still not eating meat on Fridays, though fish was ok.  I'm still not a big eater of tuna.

   The Catholic church has its own annual calendar, which includes the 40 days of both Lent and Advent (pre-Christmas).  Lent starts with Ash Wednesday.  Most folks don't realize it, but Carnival and Marti Gras take place in historically Roman Catholic areas.  Both are several days of great parties, but they end at midnight on Tuesday.  Ash Wednesday has begun.

   Ash Wednesday mass is a reminder that man started and will end in dust.  If you see folks with either a cross or a dark smudge on their forehead that day, they're Catholics who have been to mass.

   Lent is supposed to be a time of preparation of the high holy days of Good Friday and Easter.    We didn't observe as strongly as many.  My Aunt Alice and her family did the whole 9 yards.  Catholics are supposed to deny their "fleshly" desires and focus on God.  Traditionally Catholics will give up something during this period-like chocolate, or meat, or something that is important to them.

   Fasting is encouraged.  The ideal is to fast at least one meal a week, use that time for family prayer, and donate the money that would have been used, to charity.  But it wasn't just a time for giving up stuff.  We were encouraged to add spiritual practices, like spending more time in prayer or Bible or other spiritual reading.

   My parents encouraged me to join them in Lenten observances.  At first they would help me to choose what to give up.  Candy was often the choice.  Later on I was encouraged to choose my own sacrifices.

   Back then, spring vacation usually coincided with Holy Week.  The Catholic school kids got off on Holy Wednesday and had the following week off school as well.  For several years, once I was around 8, I would go camping with family friends up by Ventura.  It was a lot of fun.  In high school, my Girl Scout troop rented a beach house that week just north of Ventura.  Good times!  And some great stories.

   Traditionally, our local Kiwanis Club held a Pancake Breakfast and Easter Eggs hunt on the Saturday of Palm Sunday weekend (the weekend before spring vacation).  Since my dad was a Kiwanis member, he usually volunteered-often as one of their chefs.  I almost felt it was a rite of passage when I was allowed to help cook the pancakes when I got older.

   The Easter Egg hunt was in two parts-divided by age.  The younger children went to the toddler part of the park.  The older kids had a huge area on the east side of Smith Park.  Everyone found some of the plastic eggs.  Eventually we'd go and turn them in.  I never won any of the big prizes, but I had fun.

   Mom and I decorated real Easter Eggs.  Usually about the middle of vacation mom would dig out the big pressure cooker pot and we'd cook at least 2 dozen eggs.  The next day we'd start coloring them.  Mom encouraged me to make eggs for my friends as well.  The ones that had cracked in cooking (there were always some) were not colored, but became deviled eggs for Easter.

   One of the highlights was a trip to Sees Candy.  I would only be allowed to eat the free sample.  That's still my favorite candy.  Their Easter eggs are to die for.  Which reminds me, I need to schedule that trip this year...    Mom would also use my time off from school to do some household spring cleaning.

 Holy Week for us started on Palm Sunday.  I loved this mass.  We celebrated Christ's triumphant entry into Jerusalem.  I would keep my little piece of palm all year.  Some Catholics go to special masses on Holy Wed. and Thurs., but we didn't.  My parents had a business to run.

   They did take time off, however to go to Good Friday service.  For us, it was a 3 hour mass-from noon to about 3 p.m.  The church looked different.  The candles (eternal lights) were out.  The priest wore different rainment (clothes).  It was a house of mourning.  It was a day of fasting.

   Holy Saturday was a day of anticipation.  Finally, finally the end of my Lenten sacrifices are in sight.  There will be Sees candy!  And my Easter basket!  And a ham dinner!  Oh yeah, and Jesus is risen!  On Holy Saturday the candles in church were relit.  And there were long lines at the Confessional.  Receiving communion on Easter Sunday was heavily encouraged.

   And then it was Easter Sunday!  We had set out the Easter baskets the night before, and now they were full.  Somehow the Easter bunny knew to put the decorated names with names in the right baskets.  Before I was old enough to receive communion at mass, I would be allowed to eat one piece of candy with my breakfast.  But after, I fasted with my parents (part of the requirements to receive communion) and just looked at the goodies in my basket with much longing.

   Mass on Easter Sunday was a little longer than usual, but joyful.  Everyone wore good clothes.  Traditionally Easter was when women changed their hats to summer hats.  After church we would have a good brunch and we all enjoyed our chocolates and other goodies.  

   It was usually a relaxed day.  Sometimes we'd visit relatives-when I was younger, it was often my dad's family.  By the time I was 10 they were all gone (except for Doug), so family would be mom's.  If mom cooked, we had ham.  I could look forward to ham sandwiches for school lunches for a while.

And now for an Easter story...

   I was probably about 5 years old.  We had spent the weekend with mom's brother Ralph and his family.  This was before they moved up to Fresno for his medical residency.  Since we stayed with them, I was around their dog (the beloved Shadow).  And I'm allergic.  So by Saturday night I was in a full blown asthma attack.  My Uncle Ralph was almost done with his internship, so he was able to give me antihistamines.  Ralph wanted to take me to the ER, but my parents talked him out of it.

   Easter Sunday and time to go home.  The drugs my uncle gave me made me really, really drowsy.  My parents had brought my Easter basket, so I had been allowed a little bit of candy.  Back then, the thinking was that chocolate was bad for the skin and could make my eczema worse.  So I was only allowed a little bit at a time.  The Easter haul was supposed to last me a while.

   For some reason my parents did not take the coastal route home.  Maybe the Del Mar racetrack was in season-that alone would make a 3 hour drive into 5 hours or more.  But for whatever reason, we took the inland route, which is now known as Interstate 15.

   Unfortunately for my poor chocolates, we were having the hot weather situation known as Santa Annas.  It had to have been 90 degrees out there.  And, like most cars back then, we had no air conditioning.  So there I sat, all the long way home-drugged and drowsy, watching my chocolate melt.  My poor chocolate rabbit!  I wanted to cry just looking at him.  But there wasn't anything my parents could do but feel bad.  Eventually we got home and the chocolate went into the fridge, where it hardened again, but it was never the same.  I went to bed, still recovering.  I think I did get some extra chocolate though.

   Maybe that's why I still have such a love of good chocolate-especially around Easter time!