Easter Sunday

“Honey,” Christa gently addressed her sleeping eight-year-old. “It's time to get up.”

“Mmm,” Scott replied with his eyes still closed. “I'm still sleepy. I don't want to get up.”

Christa shrugged her shoulders in mock indifference as she replied, “Okay, I guess I'll just let your brothers and sisters divi-up your Easter candy then.”

“Easter candy?” Scott replied as his eyes shot open. “It's Easter today?”

“Yes dear, it is,” Christa smiled. “But Easter baskets are only for children who are awake and fully dressed. Everyone else is downstairs waiting for you because Daddy won't let them have their baskets until everyone is up.”

Scott launched himself out of bed, somehow managing to do so without knocking his dome off of the bottom side of the top bunk. He ran over to the closet to grab some clothes.

“No, honey,” his mother interrupted. “I already have your clothes picked out.”

Scott turned towards his mother. His heart sank when he saw the outfit that hung on the hanger in her hands. A pastel pink button up dress shirt hung on a hanger over a pair of dark blue slacks. His mother held a clip on tie and a pair of penny loafers in her other hand.

“Mommy,” Scott began with a sigh of vexation. “That is pink. Pink is for girls.”

“Not on Easter,” Christa countered. “Pink is for everyone on Easter. Come on, you can dress downstairs.” 

Scott sighed as he followed his mother downstairs. As he turned the corner into the living room, he realized that he would not be the only on sentenced to a morning in pink. Both of his sisters were dressed in pink and white dresses with lacy sleeve cuffs. They didn't mind of course. They were both twirling back and forth, watching their dresses flare out as they turned. Their delight was made evident by their constant giggles. His brothers were not so pleased. They wore the same outfit that waited for Scott. Judging by their demeanor, they were just as pleased with the situation as Scott was. Scott glanced at his father and was greeted by a knowing smile. It was immediately evident that he would get no sympathy from the head of the household.

Laid out on the couch were five wicker baskets filled to the brim with plastic eggs and small toys all nestled together in a bed of artificial grass. Scott kept his eyes on the prize as he pulled his slacks up around his waist and buttoned up his shirt. When he got to the bottom button, he found that he didn't have a hole in which to place the final button.

“Mommy,” he said as he tried to hide his jubilation. “I can't wear this shirt because it's missing a button hole. I will just go get another shirt.”

“Now wait just a minute, young man,” Christa replied, stopping him in his tracks. “You've just buttoned your shirt crooked. Come here so I can fix it.”

Scott exhaled in disappointment and walked over to his mother. She had him unbuttoned and re-buttoned in no time. She tenderly tucked in his shirt and fastened his belt before bringing the whole ensemble together with a navy blue clip-on tie. 

“Well don't you look hansom,” she exclaimed with pride.

“I guess if you think so,” Scott sighed. “Can we at least have our candy now?”

“Yes you MAY,” Dale responded with a chuckle. (Had his son not been so disappointed by his wardrobe situation, Dale's response might have been “I don't know. Can you?” However, given Scott's disposition, he simply settled for the over-enunciated may.)

The children took off towards their baskets and dug in. They pulled their items out of their respective baskets with considerable haste, laying them out on the floor so they could take stock of their Easter haul. The older children gave their parents knowing looks of thanks as the younger two discussed how nice the Easter Bunny was this year. Dale and Christa gave their children a few minutes before instructing them to stow their Easter treats and reassemble in the kitchen for breakfast.

With breakfast out of the way, the family piled into their blue Astro van and headed off to church. They made their way into the sanctuary just as the worship leader was instructing everyone to stand for the first hymn. Dale picked up three-year-old Kerry and perched her on the back of the pew in front of them. He held her with one hand and held a hymnal in the other as the whole sanctuary sang Up From the Grave He Arose. Scott watched his father sing and noticed that he wasn't singing the same tune as everyone else. It was different but it sounded really good. He turned back to the hymnal he was sharing with his older brother. He would have preferred to hold the hymnal himself, but the family pecking order dictated that Caleb be the keeper of the hymnal if he wanted to be... and he wanted. 

After the song, the congregation sat down for the scripture reading from John chapter twenty. Scott liked it when the scripture was a story. The story of Jesus' resurrection was particularly engaging, even when Pastor Matthews read it in his slightly monotone manner. He never understood how nobody recognized Jesus. Not Mary Magdalene or the men on the road to Emmaus. Thomas didn't believe Jesus rose from the dead until he stuck his fingers in Jesus' hands and his hand in Jesus' side. Eww. He said he was going to rise from the dead. How could they all forget something so important?

Special music that day was the church's male quartet. Dale was the tenor. The boys watched as their father sang with the other men. Caleb leaned over to whisper something into his bother's ear.

“Isn't it funny how dad is the biggest man up there but he has the highest singing voice?”

Scott looked towards the stage and nodded. The song ended and Dale returned to his seat. The sermon was a little shorter than usual. (Dale later said it was because everyone had a ham in the oven at home.) The congregation sang a couple more hymns and the service ended at eleven o'clock sharp. The Henning family made their way to towards the back door of the sanctuary. The childre filed past the pastor, taking turns shaking his hand. They stood out front waiting as their parents chit-chatted with the pastor. 

“Boy, I hope they finish talking before we starve to death,” Scott and his stomach commented with some sarcasm.

“Trust me,” Caleb replied. “You are not going to starve to death. If anyone does, it'll be Lukey because he's so skinny.”

“I'm not even hungry right now,” Luke interjected. 

“And that's why you're so skinny,” Kelsey declared.

The children laughed as their parents finally walked through the door. Christa picked up her youngest daughter and instructed the remaining children to hold hands as the crossed the street together. They boarded the family van and headed home. The family only lived a few mile from the church. Christa always joked that they lived that close so they could leave late and still get to church on time. It was pretty difficult for the family of seven to get anywhere on time. It seemed that just when she got all the kids ready, on of them managed to not be ready to go anymore.

When the family got home, Christa sent her children to their rooms to change, giving them special instructions to replace their Easter clothes on their hangers and not to eat too much candy so as to spoil their appetites for lunch. The boys were eager to ditch their pink shirts, but the girls wanted to keep their pretty dresses on and voiced their opinions quite emphatically.

“Okay, girls,” their mother relented. “You can keep your dresses on but you'll have to wear a bib at lunch. I don't want you to stain your pretty dresses.”

Caleb, Scott, and Luke ran upstairs to change their clothes and returned wearing jeans and t-shirts. All three boys had stuffed their cheeks with chocolate and were making every effort not to be overly obvious about it. Luke gave them away, however, when he asked his mother to help him button his pants.

“Are you eating chocolate?” Christa asked. (The question was rhetorical. She knew very well that he was.) 

Luke's gaze dropped for a moment before he replied.

“Well,” he began with some hesitation. “Caleb and Scott are eating candy too.”

“Don't be a tattletale,” Christa chuckled. “No more candy until after lunch. Say deal.”

“Deal,” Luke dutifully replied before running back to his brothers.

It wasn't long before dinner was ready. Dale called the children to the table. At the head of the table was a large ham on a pfalzgraff platter. The green beans, corn, bread, and potatoes were overlooked completely as the children oohed and ahhed over the hunk of meat at the end of the table. The boys sat on one side of the table while the girls took their place on the other side. They all held hands and bowed their head as their father prayed over their meal.

“Dear Lord, we thank you for the food that you have provided for us today and we thank you so much for your sacrifice on the cross. Without your sacrifice we would be lost. We thank you for rising from the dead so that we could worship you for your sacrifice. We pray this all in your precious name, amen.”