The Light Breaks Through


Spring has always held a special place in my heart. Even more so lately, now that I have moved from the deep south to the frigid north where the season between late October to around April never seems to thaw my old bones, and I yearn for the warmth of spring.

My memories of spring also take me back to Easter morning in my little household. My mom would go all out, Easter bunnies, dyed hard-boiled eggs, which I never ate but loved to make a mess dyeing. She would take me out to get a new Easter outfit every year. I would usually pick a pin-striped double-breasted suit coat, either gray or black with a matching vest. With some new wing-tipped shoes and argyle socks to match. I got decked out in my Sunday best. You had to look cute for Easter worship service. After getting up and putting on…

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