Happy Easter!

Easter is one of my favorite holidays. I remember as a kid growing up in the rebellious Lutheran faith (no incense and confessionals for us, thank you very much), how Easter signified the start of new things. We all got new duds, things began to grow from the ground, and Jesus rose from the dead. And best of all, before we left for church, we tore through the house to find our easter baskets. We could have only one item from the basket before we headed off for church, where we sat and fidgeted because we wanted to get back home to the candy.

In the course of my adult life, I've gained and lost a few things. One of the things I've lost is a formal religion. That's right, I'm a lapsed Lutheran. Even rebellion can't hold me for long. Yet one of the things I've gained is respect for the holiday, and how in different parts of the country, it is celebrated in very unique ways.

This became especially apparent during my years in Texas. I lived in Austin, which was very close to the "hill country" of Texas. In the hill country the holiday takes shape in the form of the Easter Fires celebration. Today, it's a big celebration with a parade which includes nearly everyone in town, and during an annual reenactment in the evening before Easter, bonfires are lit in the hills which surround of town of Fredericksburg. But the story behind the event is what's truly worth celebrating. Legend has it that the early residents of the town were in peril one Easter, since the local Indians were in the hills and threatening to come into the settlement and kill everyone. The town fathers and the Indian elders met to try to iron out a compromise and the Indians waited in the hills, lighting fires to keep warm. Fire was spotted by the children in the community and they were frightened, so an inventive mother made up the tale of how the Easter bunny was boiling eggs over the fires in order to make Easter eggs for the children.

Fortunately, the town fathers and the Indians eventually came to an agreement, and all the townspeople were spared. Some of today's residents of Fredericksburg can trace their roots back to these early pioneers who watched the fires on the hillsides and feared for their lives. And the lesson to be learned? A good story trumps everything.

Easter Symbolism

As a romance writer, symbolism is of tantamount importance. It ties a story together and brings us, and the reader, to a logical conclusion.

Growing up in the Lutheran faith, I attended years upon years of catechism classes, so I'm very familiar with the use of symbolism in the Bible. The Easter story is my favorite. As a child, I thought "If Jesus would only turn his back on the course he's taken, his life could be spared." But then, of course, all the symbolism--the water turning into wine, the never-ending fishes, the stone not being able to keep Him in the tomb--would have been for naught.

I had my own bit of symbolism happen the other day. I had just written "The End" to my next historical. This time it's Rosemary's turn. She's a writer, long before the days of the typewriter, and her ink-stained fingers proved her undoing. With my head still in my story, I had to go put in my hours on my grocery job, which is restocking greeting cards. I went to the designated store, wrote down my start time in the log book, loaded my cart full of boxes from the warehouse, and rolled them to the card section of the store. I cut open the box and started to pull the plastic off the cards when I noticed ink on my fingers. I thought the pen I used to sign in had leaked, but a quick check proved it to be still intact. There was no explanation for the ink being there. Fortunately, the greeting card company had to foresight to provide each of us with a hand sanitizer, so I cleaned the ink off my fingers before I began putting away the cards. But it puzzled me for hours.

When I got home, I realized the symbolism my day had. I can't turn my back on the course my life has taken either. I'm a writer and, even though some parts of it are tedious, the sheer magic of having a story come together is still so cool to me. Rather than having the ink stains be my undoing, they freed me. I'm cutting back even more on my grocery job and will be able to spend more time putting my stories together.

Happy Easter, everyone.