Easter Sunday

Ah! The Easter Parade. Ladies in fancy clothes and interesting hats paraded in New York every Easter. They even had their own song. Remember The Easter Parade? We'll be all in clover, when they look you over. You'll be the proudest lady in the Easter Parade. Or something like that. Maybe you don't remember that. I age myself again.

It was important to have something new for spring to wear to church on Easter morning. As a child, my parents couldn't always afford new Easter clothes. This caused my mother anxiety and increased the pressure of her constant financial worry. Many times my best outfits had been purchased at the annual P.E.O/D.A.R rummage sales. [These clubs alternated years, as I recall, though their memberships were overlapping.]

I remember the year I was allowed to wear my new outfit to school before Easter because I was to be in an all school assembly program and wanted to look my best - or rather, Mother probably wanted me to look my best. As I recall, I was just excited to have something new to wear. The hitch in the plan, however, was that I was, as usual, late to school. Riding my bicycle to school, as my brother and I always did, we were suddenly confronted with a freshly tarred street that had to be crossed, or ridden an extra block to bypass. My brother made it across just fine.

Mother was not happy - actually she was very, very unhappy, I recall, as she helped me scrub off the tar with kerosene. I can't say that I was too cheerful either. I don't remember what I wore for Easter Sunday that year, but it definitely was not the tar soaked skirt and blouse I had hoped to wear.

Whatever happened to the Easter Parade anyway? Should we consider reinstituting it? It might help get us spending again and boost our economic recovery. I'd be safe now, as I am seldom late and I never ride my bike to anything anymore.