Showing posts with label Easter Celebrations and Crafts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Easter Celebrations and Crafts. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 28, 2018

A letter from Grandpa about Easter eggs and ducks

Then one little fellow said, "Mister, will you sell me a hen; maybe she will lay us some red eggs.‚"

Dear Children:
       I am going to write something about Easter eggs and ducks. Two little boys came into our house this morning and wanted to buy some Easter eggs - the kind that their Grandma bought of us last week; but we did not have the kind that suited. They wanted blue eggs and red eggs, and all kinds of colored eggs. They said that Grandma told them that our hens laid all kinds of colored eggs. Their sadness at the thought of getting no blue and red eggs was so great that I thought their little hearts would break and bleed. I would have given a dollar apiece for just two colored eggs, rather than to have looked into their little faces and said no. Then one little fellow said, "Mister, will you sell me a hen; maybe she will lay us some red eggs.‚" I took these little men to a corner grocery and bought each of them the biggest stick of red-striped candy I could find.
       I drove to the country yesterday. I wish every little boy and girl could live in the country. There are so many things to see. Everything we eat and wear grows in the country. Nearly all of the hen's nests are in the country, and nearly all the bird's nests are there. Nearly all the good apples grow in the country, and it beats all how much home-made fun a boy can have at his Grandpa's home on a farm. Where do all the cows come from, and the little bossies? They all grow up in the country; and oh, so many flowers! I tell you children, Easter only comes once a year; but flowers last all Summer, and just keep on coming. Yesterday, we stopped at a farm house to keep out of the rain. Mrs. Nelson had an old mother duck, and ten little ducks; and she declared they would drown if they stayed out in the rain. So, out she went hunting for the ducks, and after hunting an hour she found old mother duck and her little ducks swimming in a big pond of water in a pasture near the house. The feathers are so thick and close on a duck that they can stay in the water all day and not get wet, and their feet are so wide that they can push themselves along through the water like so many little boats.

Love, Grandpa.
 

Chickens that lay Easter eggs? 
 

 Now you can see what the goose and the rooster saw in the barnyard by connecting the dots...

Connect the dots by counting 1, 2, 3...44.


Easter Index/ Previous Page/ Next Page

Monday, February 5, 2018

After Easter

After Easter
by Mary Lowe Dickinson

The Easter praises may falter 
And die with the Easter Day,
The blossoms that brightened the altar
In sweetness may fade away;
But, after the silence and fading
Lingers, untold and unpriced,
Above all changing and shading,
The love of the living Christ

For the living Christ is loving.
And the loving Christ is alive!
His life, hidden in us, is moving
Us ever to pray and to strive.
Alas! that e'en in our striving
We labor like spirits in prison,
Forgetting that Jesus is living,
Forgetting the Savior has risen!

We join in the Easter rejoicing,
And echo each gladdening strain,
While a pitiful minor is voicing
Our own secret doubting or pain.
We weave him a shroud of our sadness,
We cover his smile with our gloom,
And drive back the angel of gladness
That waits at the door of the tomb.

We forget that our own hearts have hidden
Our Christ in a grave of our own;
We forget that our own hands are bidden
To roll from the threshold the stone.
Yet our tearful eyes, drooping and weary
With watching in sorrow and fear,
Might see, with the heart-broken Mary,
That the Lord is alive - and is near.

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Easter Lilies

Easter Lilies
by Mary Lowe Dikinson

Not as we bring our garlands to a tomb,
To breathe heart-fragrance o'er a lost one's
rest,
Bring we this wreath of sweetness and of bloom
To crown this day, of all our days the best.

But as if love and gratitude and prayer,
Lying in grave dark that enwrapped his face.
Had seen his smile break forth with wondrous
grace,
And sudden blossomed into beauty there.

As if along the way that felt His tread
Life burst from death and flowers from the sod;
So new love springs to meet the heart of God,
In joyful praise that Christ no more is dead.

Easter Index/ Previous Page/ Next Page

Friday, January 5, 2018

An Easter Greeting To Every Child Who Loves "Alice"

Dear Child:

       Please to fancy, if you can, that you are reading a real letter, from a real friend whom you have seen, and whose voice you can seem to yourself to hear, wishing you, as I do now with all my heart, a happy Easter.
       Do you know that delicious, dreamy feeling, when one first wakes on a summer morning, with the twitter of birds in the air, and the fresh breeze coming in at the open window, when, lying lazily with eyes half shut, one sees as in a dream green boughs waving, or waters rippling in a golden light? It is a pleasure very near to sadness, bringing tears to one's eyes like a beautiful picture or poem. And is not that a mother's gentle hand that undraws your curtains, and a mother's sweet voice that summons you to rise?, to rise and forget, in the bright sunlight, the ugly dreams that frightened you so when all was dark‚ to rise and enjoy another happy day, first kneeling to thank that unseen Friend who sends you the beautiful sun?
       Are these strange words from a writer of such tales as Alice? And is this a strange letter to find in a book of nonsense? It may be so. Some perhaps may blame one for thus mixing together things grave and gay; others may smile and think it odd that any one should speak of solemn things at all, except in church and on Sunday; but I think‚ nay, I am sure‚ that some children will read this gently and lovingly, and in the spirit in which I have written it.
       For I do not believe God means us thus to divide life into two halves‚ to wear a grave face on Sunday, and to think it out of place to even so much as mention Him on a week-day. Do you think He cares to see only kneeling figures, and to hear only tones of prayer; and that He does not also love to see the lambs leaping in the sunlight, and to hear the merry voices of the children as they roll among the hay? Surely their innocent laughter is as sweet in His ears as the grandest anthem that ever rolled up from the " dim, religious light " of some solemn cathedral.
       And if I have written anything to add to those stories of innocent and healthy amusement that are laid up in books for the children I love so well, it is surely something I may hope to look back upon without shame and sorrow (as how much of life must then be recalled!) when my turn comes to walk through the valley of shadows.
       This Easter sun will rise on you, dear child, feeling your "life in every limb," and eager to rush out into the fresh morning air‚ and many an Easter-day will come and go before it finds you feeble and gray-headed, creeping wearily out to bask once more in the sunlight; but it is good, even now, to think sometimes of that great morning when the " Sun of Righteousness shall arise with healing in his wings."
       Surely your gladness need not be less for the thought that you will one day see a brighter dawn than this‚ when lovelier sights will meet your eyes than any waving trees or rippling waters‚ when angel hands shall undraw your curtains, and sweeter tones than ever loving mother breathed shall wake you to a new and glorious day‚ and when all the sadness and the sin that darkened this life on this little earth shall be forgotten like the dreams of a night that is past!

Your affectionate friend,
Easter, 1876. Lewis Carroll.

Easter Index/ Previous Page/ Next Page

Easter Wings by George Herbert

Butterfly hatching from an egg...
Resurrection symbol

LORD, WHO GREATEST MAN IN WEALTH AND STORE,
THOUGH FOOLISHLY HE LOST THE SAME,
DECAYING MORE AND MORE,
TILL HE BECAME
MOST POOR.

WITH THEE
OH LET ME RISE
AS LARKS, HARMONIOUSLY,
AND SING THIS DAY THY VICTORIES:
THEN SHALL THE FALL FURTHER THE FLIGHT IN ME.

MY TENDER AGE IN SORROW DID BEGIN :
AND STILL WITH SICKNESS AND SHAME
THOU DIDST SO PUNISH SIN,
THAT I BECAME
MOST THIN.

WITH THEE
LET ME COMBINE,
AND FEEL THIS DAY THY VICTORY
FOR IF I IMP MY WING ON THINE,
AFFLICTION SHALL ADVANCE THE FLIGHT IN ME.


Easter Morning

Easter Morning
by Edmund Spenser

Most glorious Lord of life, that on this day
Didst make thy triumph over death and sin,
And, having harrowed hell, didst bring away
Captivity thence captive, us to win;
This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin,
And grant that we, for whom thou diddest die.
Being with Thy dear blood clean washed from sin,
May live forever in felicity:
And that Thy love we weighing worthily.
May likewise love Thee for the same again:
And for Thy sake, that all like dear didst buy,
With love may one another entertain.
So let us love, dear love, like as we ought;
Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.

Egg Rolling

       "One of the annual sights in the city of Washington is Easter egg rolling on the White House grounds, on Easter Monday, in which several thousand children usually take part. The game is played in pairs, each player having one egg. These are rolled down hill, the unbroken egg taking its rival, if the latter is cracked.
       This custom probably came from Germany, where, at Easter-time, egg rolling is practiced on tracks made of sticks, laid side by side. In Germany the sport begins Easter-eve at midnight, and lasts about three hours. Apples and little round cakes are rolled as well as eggs.
       In Bohemia, children roll eggs in a row, starting them all at once, and watching to see which will reach the bottom of the hill first.
       In the north of England, eggs are used in playing hand ball on Easter-day." by Sandham, 1916

Egg Roll in D.C. 2012

Friday, September 8, 2017

A Glimpse of Easter In The Azores

       Even the gray Lenten season wraps carnival's domino over its sackcloth and ashes for these people whose grace turns all to favor and prettiness; only the inevitable statues of the tortured Christ remind one of the season, and soon wounds and bruises are hidden by violets, heliotrope, and pansies (aniores perfeitos, they call them). To fast when one may feast is, in Azorean creed, lack of gratitude to a very good God, so Holy Thursday is a beautiful feast called Almond day, when one eats almond-sweets till he positively sickens at the shrill cry of almond-venders, which goes up from dawn till midnight.
       Good Friday is supposed to be the day of mourning, and in the churches the closing scenes of the Calvary tragedy are enacted. The three crosses rise on a rocky mound before the veiled high altar, whereon life-sized dummy figures are crucified by aid of pulleys and ropes and mechanical devices. The entombment takes place at a side altar, converted into a garden for the purpose, where life-sized figures in armor represent Roman sentinels. The Saturday continues Friday's gloom and darkness with the aid of much dreary chanting, till just at the hour of noon, when the droning clergy, marching round the church, pause before the chapel of the tomb in an instant's silence, there comes a cry of wonder at the discovery of the empty grave, and simultaneously with the cry the veils fall from the altars, and pictures, and the black curtains from the windows, letting a flood of light pour down on the crowded, excited people. The long-silent organ augmented by choir and orchestra, breaks out in triumph, the half-masted flags of the city run to the mast-head, and all the bells clash out their paean of joy. Henry Sandham

Easter Procession

Easter Day


Easter Day
by Josephine Rice Creelman

Morning
Oh, Easter anthems gladly sing.
Let all the bells from towers ring.
And sun dispel with brightening rays.
The darkness of the Passion days !
Fair lilies with their crystal light
And eager, joyous greetings bright
Proclaim the Lord has risen again,
And put asunder death and pain !

Evening
Now sweet the sound of Vesper-bells,
The hour of evening prayer foretells,
And comes a benediction calm,
That robs the soul of all alarm,
The sky has faded in the west.
The world sinks to its peaceful rest.
The Vesper Star a taper-light.
Shines through the dark of Easter night!

Easter

Easter
by Genevieve M. J. Irons

Deep in yon garden-shade
The life of all is laid
In death's calm sleep;
Armed soldiers waiting near,
Amazed and full of fear,
Their vigil keep.
Angels, and stars, and the fair moon above.
Look down in silent awe and reverent love.

Through the dark cypress-trees
The gentle midnight breeze
Sighs a low wail;
Breath from the dewy ground
O'er the green earth around
Spreads a soft veil;
Each glade and valley, mountain, dale, and hill,
Echoes the solemn whisper, "Peace, be still."

Hushed Nature sinks to rest,
And on her Maker's breast
She falls asleep ;
Released from human woes.
The Almighty finds repose
In slumber deep ;
But saints are watching through the silent night.
In eager patience waiting for the light.

The mother undefiled
Is pondering on her Child,
Now crucified;
And through her tearless dreams
The cross in radiance beams,
Whereon he died.
Bright visions dawn. Behold ! the darkness flies,
Resplendent from the grave she sees him rise.

John the Beloved stands by,
Gazing with wondering eye
At Mary's smile ;
And angels at the sight,
Pause in their heavenward flight.
To muse awhile.
Yet the sun hides itself in dim eclipse,
While he awaits his full apocalypse.

Peter, who thrice denied
The Master at his side.
The Lord of all.
With penitential tears
And deep heart-searching fears.
Bewails his fall.
There, as he weeps in bitter grief apart,
His Savior's look speaks comfort to his heart.

The lowly Magdalene
(Of penitents the queen)
Waits for the morn.
When in that cave so still
Her task she may fulfill
Of love forlorn;
And first to her Christ risen shall appear,
Though in a form unknown he draweth near.

While he who longed to die
With Christ on Calvary,
Whose love devout
His Master proved and tried
By heartfelt prayer denied,
Must wait in doubt ;
Eight days of solemn gloom in darkness past,
On trustful Thomas he will shine at last.

But lo, the Sabbath ends !
Nocturn with matins blends.
The morning breaks ;
The shadows flee away
Before the rising day,
And Christ awakes !
Angels proclaim the anthem far and near,
" Ye seek your risen Lord; he is not here."

The Apparition of Christ To His Mother

       The enthusiastic and increasing veneration for the Madonna, the large place she filled in the religious teaching of the ecclesiastics and the religious sentiments of the people, are nowhere more apparent, nor more strikingly exhibited, than in the manner in which she was associated with the scenes which followed the Passion; -- the manner in which some incidents were suggested, and treated with a peculiar reference to her, and to her maternal feelings. It is nowhere said that the Virgin-mother was one of the Maries who visited the tomb on the morning of the resurrection, and nowhere is she so represented. But out of the human sympathy with that bereaved and longing heart, arose the beautiful legend of the interview between Christ and his Mother after he had risen from the dead.
       There existed a very ancient tradition (it is mentioned by St. Ambrose in the fourth century, as being then generally accepted by Christians), that Christ, after his return from Hades, visited his Mother even before he appeared to Mary Magdalene in the garden. . . . The reasoning which led to the conclusion was very simple. He whose last earthly thought was for his mother would not leave her without that consolation it was in his power to give; and what, as a son, it was his duty to do (for the humanity of Christ is never forgotten by those who most intensely believed in his divinity) ; that, of course, he did do.
       The story is thus related: -- Mary, when all was "finished," retired to her chamber, and remained alone with her grief-- not wailing, not repining, not hopeless, but waiting for the fulfillment of the promise. Open before her lay the volume of the prophecies ; and she prayed earnestly, and she said, "Thou didst promise, O my most dear Son! that thou wouldst rise again on the third day. Before yesterday was the day of darkness and bitterness, and, behold, this is the third day. Return then to me thy mother; O my Son, tarry not, but come!" And while thus she prayed, lo! a bright company of angels, who entered waving their palms and radiant with joy ; and they surrounded her, kneeling and singing the triumphant Easter hymn, Regina Coeli Laetare, Alleluia! And then came Christ partly clothed in a white garment, having in his left hand the standard with the cross, as one just returned from the nether world, and victorious over the powers of sin and death. And with him came the patriarchs and prophets, whose long-imprisoned spirits he had released from Hades. All these knelt before the Virgin, and saluted her, and blessed her, and thanked her, because through her had come their deliverance. But, for all this, the Mother was not comforted till she had heard the voice of her Son. Then he, raising his hand in benediction, spoke and said, "I salute thee, O my mother! " and she, weeping tears of joy, responded, " Is it thou indeed, my most dear Son? " and she fell upon his neck, and he embraced her tenderly, and showed her the wounds he had received for sinful man. Then he bade her be comforted and weep no more, for the pain of death had passed away, and the gates of hell had not prevailed against him. And she thanked him meekly on her knees, for that he had been pleased to bring redemption to man, and to make her the humble instrument of his great mercy. And they sat and talked together, until he took leave of her to return to the garden, and to show himself to Mary Magdalene, who, next to his glorious mother, had most need of consolation. by Mrs. Jameson

"Easter Week" full of singing and tweeting...

Easter Week
by Charles Kingsley

See the land, her Easter keeping,
Rises as her Maker rose.
Seeds, so long in darkness sleeping,
Burst at last from winter snows.
Earth with heaven above rejoices,
Fields and gardens hail the spring;
Shaughs and woodlands ring with voices,
While the wild birds build and sing.

You to whom your Maker granted
Powers to those sweet birds unknown,
Use the craft by God implanted;
Use the reason not your own.
Here, while heaven and earth rejoices,
Each his Easter tribute bring --
Work of fingers, chant of voices.
Like the birds who build and sing. 
 

        Now draw some birds in their nest in just a few steps, 1, 2, 3... They are singing a new Spring song to celebrate Easter morning for you, God and me!


It's really lots
Of fun to draw;
So let's put down
Some things I saw.

Sketch half a circle
Like this one;
Then several small ones
When that's done.

Some crooked lines,
An eye or two;
And two small birds
Peep out at you.

Poem "Compensation" and A Daffodil Border Craft

Compensation
by an unknown English poet

The graves grow thicker, and life's ways more bare,
As years on years go by:
Nay, thou hast more green gardens in thy care.
And more stars in thy sky!

Behind, hopes turned to grief, and joy to memories.
Are fading out of sight ;
Before, pains changed to peace, and dreams to cer-
tainties,
Are glowing in God's light.

Hither come backslidings, defeats, distresses,
Vexing this mortal strife;
Thither go progress, victories, successes,
Crowning immortal life.

Few jubilees, few gladsome, festive hours,
Form landmarks for my way;
But heaven and earth, and saints and friends and
flowers,
Are keeping Easter Day! 
 

 Cut an Easter daffodil paper boarder to decorate your home or classroom for Easter.
 
 
       Download and print out the pattern below. The dotted lines indicate where the image will be folded to continue the daffodil silhouette seamlessly after it is unfolded. The number of images "linked" together in one continuous chain is determined by the length of the paper being cut. Use a very thin paper to make your cutting easier. Cut away the areas indicated by the design. (see image above and read text on the pattern below. This paper-cut may be used as a border around a Easter bulletin board in a classroom or as a paper chain for a shelf if you like.
 
An Easter daffodil template/pattern.


Of The Lord's Day and Easter

       Time is a circumstance no less inseparable from religious actions than place, for man consisting of a soul and body cannot always be actually engaged in the service of God: that is the privilege of angels, and souls freed from the fetters of mortality. So long as we are here, we must worship God with respect to our present state, and consequently of necessity have some definite and particular time to do it in. Now, that a man might not be left to a floating uncertainty in a matter of so great importance, in all ages and nations men have been guided by the very dictates of nature to pitch upon some certain seasons, wherein to assemble and meet together to perform the public offices of religion. The ancient Christians ever had their peculiar seasons, their solemn and stated times of meeting together to perform the common duties of divine worship; of which, the Lord's-day challenges the precedency of all the rest. . . .
       The name of this day of public worship is sometimes, especially by Justin Martyr and Tertullian, called Sunday, because it happened upon that day of the week which by the heathens was dedicated to the sun; and therefore, as being best known to them, the Fathers commonly made use of it in their Apologies to the heathen governors. This title continued after the world became Christian, and seldom it is that it passes under any other name in the imperial edicts of the first Christian emperors. But the more proper and prevailing name was Dies Dominica, the Lord's- day, as it was called by St. John himself, as being that day of the week whereon our Lord made his triumphant return from the dead. This, Justin Martyr assures us, was the original of the title. " Upon Sunday," he says," we all assemble and meet together, as being the first day wherein God, parting the darkness from the rude chaos, created the world, and the same day whereon Jesus Christ our Savior rose again from the dead; for he was crucified the day before Saturday, and the day after (which is Sunday) he appeared to his apostles and disciples ": by this means observing a kind of analogy and proportion with the Jewish Sabbath, which had been instituted by God himself. For as that day was kept as a commemoration of God's Sabbath, or resting from the work of creation, so was this set apart to religious uses, as the solemn memorial of Christ's resting from the work of our redemption in this world, completed upon the day of his resurrection. Which brings into my mind that custom of theirs so universally common in those days, that whereas at other times they kneeled at prayers, on the Lord's-day they always prayed standing, as is expressly affirmed both by Justin Martyr and Tertullian ; the reason of which we find in the authors of the Questions and Answers in Justin Martyr. "It is," says he, "that by this means we may be put in mind both of our fall by sin, and our resurrection or restitution by the grace of Christ; that for six days we pray upon our knees, as in token of our fall by sin; but that on the Lord's-day we do not bow the knee, does symbolically represent our resurrection by which through the grace of Christ we are delivered from our sins, and the power of death." This, he there tells us, was a custom derived from the very times of the apostles, for which he cites Irenaeus in his book concerning Easter ; and this custom was maintained with so much vigor, that, when some began to neglect it, the great council of Nice took notice of it, and ordained that there should be a constant uniformity in this case, and that on the Lord's-day (and at such times as were usual) men should stand when they made their prayers to God. So fit and reasonable did they think it to do all possible honor to that day on which Christ rose from the dead. Therefore we may observe, all along in the sacred story, that after Christ's resurrection the apostles and the primitive Christians did especially assemble upon the first day of the week: and, whatever they might do at other times, yet there are many passages that intimate that the first day of the week was their most solemn time of meeting. . . .
       They looked upon the Lord's-day as a time to be celebrated with great expressions of joy, as being the happy memory of Christ's resurrection, and accordingly restrained whatever might savor of sorrow and sadness. Fasting on that day they prohibited with the greatest severity, accounting it utterly unlawful, as Tertullian informs us. . . . They never fasted on that day, no, not in the time of Lent itself; nay, the Montanists, though otherwise great pretenders to fasting and mortification, did yet abstain from it on the Lord's-day. And, as they accounted it a joyful and good day, so they did whatever they thought might contribute to the honor of it. No sooner was Constantine come over the church but his principle care was about the Lord's-day. He commanded it to be solemnly observed, and that by all persons whatsoever. He made it to all a day of rest; that men might have nothing to do but to worship God, and be better instructed in the Christian faith, and spend their whole time without anything to hinder them in prayer and devotion, according to the custom and discipline of the church. And for those in his army, who yet remained in their paganism and infidelity, he commanded them upon the Lord's-day to go into the fields, and there pour out their souls in hearty prayers to God; and that none might pretend their own inability to the duty, he him- self composed and gave them a short form of prayer, which he enjoined them to make use of every Lord's- day: so careful was he that this day should not be dishonored or misemployed, even by those who were yet strangers and enemies to Christianity. He more- over ordained that there should be no courts of judicature open upon this day, no suits or trials at law; but that for any works of mercy, such as emancipating and setting free of slaves or servants, this might be done. That there should be no suits nor demanding debts upon this day, was confirmed by several laws of succeeding emperors. . . . Theodosius the Great, anno 386, by a second law ratified one he had passed long before, wherein he expressly prohibited all public shows upon the Lord's-day, that the worship of God might not be confounded with those profane solemnities. This law the younger Theodosius some years after confirmed and enlarged, enacting, that on the Lord's-day not only Christians, but even Jews and heathens, should be restrained from the pleasure of all sights and spectacles, and the theaters be shut up in every place ; and whereas it might so happen that the birthday or inauguration of the emperor might fall upon that day, therefore to let the people know how infinitely he preferred the honor of God, before the concerns of his own majesty and greatness, he commanded that the imperial solemnity should be put off till another day.
       The early Christians did not think it enough to read and pray and praise God at home, but made conscience of appearing in the public assemblies, from which nothing but sickness and absolute necessity did detain them: and if sick, or in prison, or under banishment, nothing troubled them more than that they could not come to church, and join their devotions to the common services. If persecution at any time forced them to keep a little close, yet no sooner was there the least mitigation, but they presently returned to their open duty, and publicly met all together. No trivial pretenses, no light excuses, were then admitted for any one's absence from the congregation, but, according to the merit of the cause, severe censures were passed upon them. The synod of Illiberis provided that if any man dwelling in a city (where usually churches were nearest hand) should for three Lord's-days absent himself from the church, he should for some time be suspended the communion, that he might appear to be corrected for his fault. William Cave

Russian Easters, 1916

       Easter begins with a midnight service; but on the evening before, samples of the principal dishes to be used on the following day are brought into the church or placed on the outside steps, in order that they may share the blessing. Among these, truncated pyramids of curds and colored eggs are conspicuous. The streets are deserted, except in the neighborhood of the sacred buildings ; but these are filled to overflowing on this one occasion in the year, so that in the larger towns late comers must be content to view the ceremonies through the glass screen with which the more important churches are provided. At St. Petersburg all the higher officials are expected to attend the Imperial Chapel, which is not large enough to contain a tenth of their number. The rest walk up and down, and form a kind of conversazione outside. All through Passion Week the services have been gloomy, the altar has been denuded of its ornaments, and the priests have appeared only in black robes. Even on Easter Eve only such lamps are lighted as are absolutely necessary to allow the worshipers to take their places in an orderly way. As soon as midnight is past the priests appear in white garments, intoning the Easter hymn; and, when the tones are heard, the altar and the whole building are brilliantly lighted, as suddenly as the means at the disposal of the authorities will permit. The exterior of the building is also illuminated, and where but a few minutes before all was darkness and gloom there is now a little island of light. The men are dressed in their best clothes, the women are all in white. After some ceremonies, the procession of priests passes down the aisle and round the exterior of the building. Everywhere the greeting " Christ hath risen," with the response "Yea, He hath risen," may be heard; and the customary three kisses are given. Lent is over, and Easter has begun. The service, including the blessing of the food and the first Easter Mass, lasts till between two and three; after it is finished, the families return to their homes to break their long fast, and invite such of their friends as they may meet to accompany them. A large table is spread in the greatest room with all the delicacies and customary dishes of the season. In the good old times it was expected that the higher nobles should keep it fully furnished till Whitsuntide, and every one who entered the house was welcome to eat what he would standing by it ; but this custom has fallen into disuse, except perhaps in the most distant districts.
      The peasantry, hospitable as they are always, and more especially at this season of the year, cannot, of course, indulge in such excessive display; but they have observances of their own, particularly in Southern Russia. Before he goes to church with all his family, the countryman must take care that some log is left burning in the stove, or some lamp before the image of a saint, at which the Easter candles can be lighted. To forget this is not only to bring ill luck upon the house, but also to show oneself religiously indifferent ; in short, to be a most objectionable kind of person. Yet even for this sin there is forgiveness. . .
       Whenever a few compatriots are gathered together, when the Russian Easter comes, whatever their political or religious opinions may be, the old table will be spread, the old greetings will be exchanged, and the old dishes as far as possible reproduced or imitated; for, quite apart from the religious aspect of the festival, Easter is for the Russian what Christmas is for the German -- above all things, a family gathering. Both are celebrated with pomp at Court, both are duly commemorated in church, but it is not in these facts that their attraction consists. They are loved and ob- served because they recall memories of childhood -- and because they furnish a yearly opportunity of renewing old friendships and making up new differences.

The Bells of Kremlin

       Though the tower of Ivan Veliki is the finest belfry in Russia, it has no special beauty, but being two hundred and sixty-nine feet high, towers finely above all the other buildings of the Kremlin in the distant views. Halfway up is a gallery, whence the sovereigns from Boris to Peter the Great used to harangue the people. The exquisite bells are only heard in perfection on Easter Eve at midnight. On the preceding Sunday (Palm Sunday) the people have resorted in crowds to the Kremlin to buy branches, artificial flowers, and boughs with waxen fruits to hang before their icons. On Holy Thursday the Metropolitan has washed the feet of twelve men, representing the Apostles, in the cathedral, using the dialogue recorded in John xii. Then at midnight on Easter Eve the great bell sounds, followed by every other bell in Moscow; the whole city blazes into light; the tower of Ivan Veliki is illuminated from its foundation to the cross on its summit. The square below is filled with a motley throng, and around the churches are piles of Easter cakes, each with a taper stuck in it, waiting for a blessing. The interior of the Church of the Rest of the Virgin is thronged by a vast multitude bearing waxed tapers. The Metropolitan and his clergy, in robes blazing with gold and precious stones, have made the external circuit of the church three times, and then, through the great doors, have advanced towards the throne between myriads of lights. No words can describe the colors, the blaze, the roar of the universal chant. Descending from the throne, the Metropolitan has incensed the clergy and the people, and the clergy have incensed the Metropolitan, whilst the spectators have bowed and crossed themselves incessantly. After a service of two hours the Metropolitan has advanced, holding a cross which the people have thronged to kiss. He has then retired to sanctuary, whence, as Ivan Veliki begins to toll, followed by a peal from a thousand bells announcing the stroke of midnight, he emerges in a plain purple robe, and announces, "Christos voscres!" Christ is risen. Then kisses of love are universally exchanged, and, most remarkable of all the Metropolitan, on his hands and knees, crawls around the church kissing the icons on the walls, the altars, and the tombs, and, through their then opened sepulchers, the incorruptible bodies of the saints. After this no meetings take place without the salutation "Christos voscres," and the answer, "Vo istine voscres " (He is risen). Augustus J. G. C. Hare

A Madrigal

A Madrigal
by Clinton Scollard

Easter-glow and Easter-gleam !
Lyric laughter from the stream
That between its banks so long
Murmured such a cheerless song;
Stirrings faint and fine and thin
Every woodsy place within ;
Root and tendril, bough and bole.
Rousing with a throb of soul ;
The old ecstasy awake
In the briar and the brake;
Blue-bird raptures -- dip and run --
And the robin-antiphon ;
Tingling air and trembling earth,
And the crystal cup of mirth
Brimmed and lifted to the lip
For each one of us to sip.
Dream! -- 'tis something more than dream,
Easter-glow and Easter-gleam!
Prescience 'tis, and prophecy
Of the wonder that shall be
When the spirit leaps to light
After death's heimal night!

The Barren Easter

Parable of the seed sower. Those who sow
seed do not always harvest, but must wait
to see God's rewards in the here after.

The Barren Easter
by Clinton Scollard

It was the barren Easter,
And o'er Pamello plain,
Where'er the sweeping eye might rove,
From beechen grove to beechen grove.
Greened neither grass nor grain.

It was the barren Easter;
By vale and windy hill,
Where blossoms tossed on yester year,
Now bourgeoned no narcissus spear,
And glowed no daffodil.

It was the barren Easter,
And toward the grinding-floor,
A store of wheat within his pack,
Along the dreary meadow-track
Went good Saint Isadore.

It was the barren Easter,
And when the sweet saint came
To where a mighty live-oak spread,
A host of wrens and starlings red
Seemed crying out his name.

It was the barren Easter,
And to his ears their cry
Rang plaintively, "O Isadore,
Grant us thy pity, we implore!

Give succor, or we die! "
It was the barren Easter
When wide he flung his store.
And all the feathered folk of air
Sped whirring downward for their share
From kind Saint Isadore.

It was the barren Easter
And onward to the mill
Along the dreary meadow-track.
The empty bags within his pack,
The good saint plodded still.

It was the barren Easter;
He scarce knew why he went,
Save that he did not dare return
To face his master, grim and stem.
Now all his grain was spent.

It was the barren Easter;
When at the miller's feet
He cast the sacks in dull despair,
Behold, he saw them open there
Abrim with golden wheat !

It was the barren Easter;
Oh, meager are men's words
To tell how He that rose that day.
And drove the wraith of Death away,
Helped him who fed the birds!

Easter Even

Easter Even
by Margaret French Patton

Our dear Lord now is taken from the cross,
His bruised body wrapped in linen cool.
And laid by loving hands in Joseph's tomb;
Outraged Nature bows her head and sleeps;
The guard is set; Jerusalem is still.

Ye sleeping buds, break
Open your green cerements, and wake
To fragrant blossoming for His sweet sake;
To-morrow will be Easter day,
And I would have my garden gay
On Easter day.

Ye home-bound birds, take
Swift-winged flight, that from my budding brake
Your joyful hallelujahs ye may make;
To-morrow will be Easter day.
And I would have my garden gay
On Easter day.

Ye strolling winds, shake
Out your drooping sails, and heavenward take
The songs and sweet aromas for His sake;
To-morrow will be Easter day.
And I would have my garden gay
On Easter day.

Early in the morning while 'tis dark,
Like Mary Magdalen, with spices rare,
I, too, shall hasten to my garden fair
To seek, our risen Lord. Who knows? For love
Of birds and buds He may be walking there.

An Easter Carol

 An Easter Carol
by Christina G. Rossetti

Spring bursts to-day,
For Christ is risen and all the earth's at play.

Flash forth, thou Sun,
The rain is over and gone, its work is done.

Winter is past,
Sweet Spring is come at last, is come at last.

Bud, Fig and Vine,
Bud, Olive, fat with fruit and oil and wine.

Break forth this morn
In roses, thou but yesterday a thorn.

Uplift thy head,
O pure white Lily through the Winter dead.

Beside your dams
Leap and rejoice, you merry-making Lambs.

All Herds and Flocks
Rejoice, all Beasts of thickets and of rocks.

Sing, Creatures, sing,
Angels and Men and Birds and everything.