pussy willows

Easter morning. Walking by the Ukrainian Catholic Cathedral, then the Ukrainian Orthodox Cathedral, the mass goers stream out in waves down elegant steps and across streets on their way home with baskets of what I had always thought was blessed bread, and carrying pussy willow branches. Having lived in this neighborhood for many years, I hadn't ever thought to consider the symbolism of the baskets or the tree branches.

Pussy Willows

As it turns out, the baskets aren't necessarily filled with bread; rather, they hold the items that have been abstained from during Lent ... eggs, butter, sausage, etc. And the pussy willows? Apparently it was difficult to get palms to the Ukraine, so pussy willows took their place. I do like this alternative explanation for this practice as well:

There is another reason that willow branches are used: religious syncretism.  This particular ritual had a magical intent in pagan times. The willow tree had medicinal properties, was considered a holy tree, and was one of the first in the Spring to show signs of life. The people believed that by tapping each other with the freshly blooming willow tree branch, they could draw from it the same energy and strength which allowed it to come to life. http://web.mac.com/lubap/Ukrainian_Easter/Traditions.html

Wonderful notion this ... the idea that we can take energy from what is the same force that pulls out a bud from the branch. It isn't too different from the idea that I have felt all Spring ... the pull of light and warmth that draw my petals out after the dark days of Winter have passed.

Ah, but this Spring season has found me immersed in several traditions, religious and secular. And in a very simple way, I see that we all have traditions that may have very different meaning and experience at the heart of it, they are celebrated very similarly.

http://www.payvand.com/news/08/mar/1184.html

First I celebrated Narooz, the Iranian (Persian)New Year, which has been celebrated on the first day of Spring for over 3,000 years. My Iranian friend has always invited me over for her Narooz dinner. On a table in her home, she has assembled items of significance that are always put together for the holiday. I never seem to remember what the symbolism of each item is, but I know that she always has coins, a flowering hyacinth, grass, and do I remember a gold fish artfully arranged on a beautiful Iranian tray. On payvand.com, it listed several of the items that are included on this table, though they can be different based on each family's tradition. Plus it suggested the symbolism of each item: mirror-sky; apple-Earth; candles-fire; Golab (rose water)-water; grass-plants; goldfish-animals; and painted eggs-humans and fertility.

 Of course the main attraction of the celebration is the food for most of us who are there and haven't grown up with Narooz. And my friend is a fabulous cook, who always enchants her guests with her special rices and Mediterranean fare. One of my favorite treats are the cardamon cookies that she always bakes for the holiday! Cardamon being a spice specific to the holiday.

Next on my tour was my first invitation to a Passover dinner. I was very excited about this opportunity. One, I was happy to meet more of my friend's family, and I have always been interested in Jewish custom/practice. Embarrassingly, I really wasn't even very sure what Passover was all about. Last year while in NYC during Passover, we were by the pickle guys on the lower eastside,and one guy was shaving horse radish on the street. He held his out hand and said, 'hey! try this girls.' He explained that he was busy filling orders for the Passover Seder. Wasn't I delighted when I showed up for Passover and horse radish from the NYC pickle guys was on the table! As the Seder began, I understood ... not much. I was so overwhelmed by all of the readings, and traditions, and ceremonies ... it was lovely. In addition to the horse radish, I dipped my finger in wine and tapped it on my plate, I ate the bitter herb, I ate the matzoh, and matzoh ball soup. 

My sisters and I dying Easter eggs with Dad (I'm the one with the bangs!)

 All of this has me thinking on this Easter day. The celebration of the Resurrection of Christ is the religious Spring tradition I was raised in, and I wonder if it isn't that very different from what is really happening in the Iranian household during Narooz, or the Jewish one during Passover. Now I will tell you from the git go that I am not an actively religious person. On a morning program today, experts were interviewed about the theory that it was the Shroud that gave an illusion of Christ (a hologram?) coming back to life (simply stated ... by me), and not a resurrection. And I thought, ok. That doesn't wipe out the whole belief for me. One of the scholars interviewed even suggested that several of the disciples said that Christ was not resurrected, and that the idea of it is meant to be symbolic. I don't really want to consider the religious aspects of this ... most of what I remember was not associated with the religious event, but involved activities that had nothing to do with Christ.



My brother and his sisters on Easter morning (I'm the one with the white socks and shoes!)

When we were young, my Dad worked a lot. Heck, he just worked a lot always. Even on Saturdays. So you can imagine how excited we were on the night before Easter ... but we had to wait until he came home. Ate. Made a drink. Relaxed. And I'm thinking that we probably were sitting at the table above at 9 p.m. just getting started with the egg dying. Dad was always a good one with the dyes. He made the prettiest colors and patterns. We were a happy bunch ... I don't know where my brother is in the picture?!

After we dyed the eggs, we would arrange them in our baskets with the candies that Mom had bought. We each had our own basket, separate and distinct from each other's. When that was finished, I'm sure that it was late and so went right to bed. In the night, the Easter Bunny would hide our baskets for us to find the next day. Our Easter Bunny would take jelly beans and make patterns on the floor that would then lead to the baskets ... eventually. Of course this was tricky since we had cats. The cats, once the rooms were bunny-free, liked to bat around the jelly beans.



The family goes to Church on Easter.

 Not unlike other families, Easter was the one time when we would get new clothes. I believe that my Iranian friend said this was true of Narooz as well. I can clearly remember many of the pretty dresses that my Mom would buy for us. In the picture above I wore a dress that was white eyelet on top, and an A-line shaped yellow skirt. A luxurious velvet black ribbon wrapped around in an empire waste. My sister had a matching dress. In the dress left, I think that I was doing Annie Hall before her as the dress had a silky paisley'd tie that was worn outside the pink jumper. Super cool. Too bad you can't see it in this picture.

Of course the day was about food ... and liquor for the big people. As we got older, the one element that I remember most were the daiquiris that my Dad would make when we got home from church. Children were always allowed a sip or two, and there was something about the pretty green slushy elixir that I found to be intoxicating ... well, I suppose maybe I was actually a little buzzed!

I spent this Easter at my Mom's house. She roasted a lamb. We drank wine. I did not have an Easter basket filled with candies, but the sweetness of home was there.



In the end, I've spent three very lovely evenings celebrating with friends and/or family. I wore a dress to all three occassions. Drank wine at each. And enjoyed lovely company and great food. I do feel hopeful as Spring awakes and I find that all of us, though simply told, can enjoy a re-birth, a resurrection, a release from what has been behind us.