Writing Prompt:
Rebirth and Resurrection
Christians celebrated Easter in the month of April, remembering a time when Jesus died and then rose again. To me, it is not coincidental that Easter occurs in the spring, a season in the Midwest associated with rebirth and renewal.
Write about what rebirth and renewal mean to you. Maybe it demonstrates itself in one of the following ways:
- A second chance you didn’t see coming
- Something (or someone) you once lost that finds its (their) way back to you
- The heaviness of waiting—for answers, for healing, for closure
- A place that comes alive again
- A person you didn’t expect to forgive—or be forgiven by
- Planting something and watching it grow
- A tradition you create out of grief
- The moment you realize you’re healing
- Someone rising from ruin—not literally, but in spirit
- What it means to be “reborn” emotionally or spiritually
- A small resurrection—something broken that becomes beautiful again
Story Starter:
Seven Days, One Secret
After being declared dead for 24 hours, you wake up in the morgue with no memory of what happened—only a strange symbol burned into your palm and a note in your pocket that says, ‘You have one week to finish what you started.’
Easter
-by Maryanne MB
We were a family of seven. Most of my memories started with waking up to an Easter basket at the foot of my bed lovingly set out by our mom. She spent years staying up late into the night finishing up dresses for my sister, Camille, and me. They were made of pastel colored organza, pique cotton, a silk or polyester blend, and were accented with lace and white pearly buttons. As we got older, she let us pick out the patterns and fabric.
Six of us would get ready for Easter mass. My dad would open up the liquor store he owned for many of my growing up years. After we were late for mass at St. John Vianney, we would take flowers to Live Oak Cemetery where my dad’s mom was buried. How is it that just about every year either Camille or I would get one of our brand new white patent leather shoes with white lace trimmed socks wedged into one of the algae water flower containers? Then we would pull out a freshly dyed green shoe and sock creation. My mom wasn’t one to swear, but as a mom I know what I would have said.
After that we’d head over to my moms’ parents home nearby. We loved going to Nana and Tata’s house whenever we could. And Easter was a special occasion. Looking back, their home was way too small to host a group of over 20 in a 2 bedroom, 1 bath, 855 sq. ft house. But there we were, my nicknamed mom and her siblings—Bebe, Dede, and Champ, along with their spouses and our cousins. Oh how I miss those days. We were all dressed up and gathered for a home cooked breakfast. It was served in rounds according to who showed up first. We were always last. For decades, Nana and Tata made us a feast of eggs, bacon, sliced ham, beans, tortillas, and orange juice. My brothers thought the juice glasses were too small. Then there was the Easter egg hunt. The adults would hide the eggs in the back yard and then all 15 grandchildren would scramble outside to find them. Some how Camille always managed to find the most. She said she loved the challenge of the hunt. When we were older plastic eggs were added to the mix including one with a fifty cent piece. That started a more intense competition. We ended the day with a group photo.
Sometime when I was in college, we switched over to a picnic at a nearby park to give our grandparents a break. We shared buckets of Kentucky Fried Chicken, potato and macaroni salad, coleslaw, baked beans, rolls, deviled eggs, cookies, rice crispy treats,cakes, and beverages. We played softball where my Tata was the pitcher and my dad played first base. They each had a can of beer at their positions. When my future husband joined us for the first time one Easter right before we were engaged he said, “In my family Easter was a high and holy holiday where we sat around grandmas’s table. It had to be boring and quiet, but we could play Old Maid because it didn’t involve real cards and gambling. And now, look at you guys!” I looked at him and said, “He is risen! Salud!”
Orchid
-by Sarah G
Orchid opening
buds linger on drooping stems
patient petals curl