Our Easter

Our dear friends took The Squirt under their wing on Saturday while I was working and were, as always, the most delightful hosts: they colored Easter eggs; drove him around on their tractor; made cupcakes that looked like Easter baskets, complete with rainbow cake, colorful edible grass, malt eggs, and a Twizzler for the handle, regrettably eaten before we were able to take a picture (yum!); and sent him home tired and laden with goodies.

That evening, the conversation between my sister and me went something like this.

Her:  What Mass should we go to?
Me:  I have to be at work for noon, so 10:30 is out; I'm not going to Easter Sunday Mass in my uniform.
Her:  We can go to 7:30 am, then.
Me:  That's so early.  By the time we get home and into bed, that won't leave much time for sleeping, and then I'll have to work eight hours immediately afterward.  You know what I was thinking?  What about the 9 am Mass?
Her:  The Latin one?
Me:  Yep.  You know, the C&Eers (Christmas and Easter-ers) won't be at the Tridentine Mass, so we can avoid the usual hassle and have a nice Easter Mass for a change!
Her:  I was thinking the same exact thing!

So we did go to the Latin Mass, and it was blessedly normal.  Toward the second half, though, the C&Eers started to interrupt by coming in the back, standing awkwardly in the entrance and proclaiming loudly to their companions, "Is this a Mass?  Or are they just praying?", and then going out again while leaving the doors open.  We knew they weren't regulars because regulars would have known that there's always Latin Mass at 9.  Silly C&Eers.  My sister calls them CEO's.  Christmas and Easter Only.

Apparently, some wandered into the Latin Mass from the start because the priest apologized afterward for not announcing before Communion that one can only receive the Host on the tongue, as is required by the 1960's manual.  The servers put the paten over the hands of the communicants to indicate that they couldn't place It in their palms.  He then apologized for the inconvenience.  A very gracious man indeed.

(No make-up, unwashed hair--but a personal achievement in that I was wearing legit fancy clothes!  Oh, and I had a beige lace veil, too.)

There's nothing, in my experience, that comes close to the journey made throughout Lent, through Holy Week, and into the joy of Easter.  Hope yours was lovely and full of the euphoria of All Things Made New!