by Louie Tacker - As Easter is fast approaching, I sit back and my mind fills with thoughts of childhood.

Being raised Roman Catholic I realize that Easter is the most holy of all the Catholic Holy days. After all it is the culmination of Jesus’ life, the whole point of His being on this earth. But sadly, we have also found a way to turn this time into a capitalistic adventure as we have with Christmas.

That being said, let’s go back, all of us to our hopefully happy childhood memories of Easter.

Oh, I close my eyes and can smell the one thing that always comes back - ‘EASTER BREAD’ baking all week in the oven. It was one of my mother’s legacies. The entire family - aunts, uncles and so on expected to have their loaves of Easter bread delivered. The recipe going back to four generations or more, my mother was the one who perfected it.

For many years, even as a young child, I would watch her with curious eyes and mind as she worked that dough by hand, kneading it over and over till just the right consistency then letting it rise overnight till that dough ‘magically’ doubled or even tripled in size! Boy that always amazed me! It was like magic - go to sleep, wake up and boom! That ball of dough would double. Only later on did I realize that it was the yeast that performed the magic.. lol.. You see this was a double rise bread so on that same morning, she would again ‘beat’ it down and then form the rings in pie pans and let it rise again to double in size before baking it.

Mmmm…. oh that smell as it filled the house - I can smell it now as she whipped up batch after batch. And then all week my brother and I would be dragged around to all the relatives’ homes to deliver the treat. I remember the excitement in everyone’s eyes as they knew what was in the paper bags my mother held. Within minutes the coffee would be on and they were ripping into that sweet magical bread.

How I also remember my brother and I being yelled at not to jump around the house for that would stop the bread from swelling up to that nice puffy shape while it was baking. And then the best moment of all - the first cut into that bread as the steam escaped from inside, the light fluffy texture, and then ohh.. that taste.. Then the cat and mice game would start with me, my brother and my father being the mice and my mother being the cat preventing us from devouring her week’s work of baking. And it amazed me how my mother seemed to have eyes in the back of her head because no matter how hard we tried and schemed to ’steal’ that extra piece, she would always apprehend us.. lol

Those were the simple times - no dvd’s, no computers, cell phones, instant movies on demand, video games.. no, none of that. Watching mom bake the Easter bread was our entertainment, and that formed the bonds of family. This makes me think maybe this is one of the things we lack in our ‘modern’ world, as I know most people from my generation had memories of these kind as most families then had these special recipes and traditions that lets us escape back to those special times. Now our children are too busy doing nothing. We are too busy chasing that dollar so we can buy our memories. Well, you know what I have found out? You CAN’T BUY those kinds of memories or traditions.

We have already commercialized everything that once was sacred and special to the family. We rush to get that candy, or the gifts, bought from stores, pass them out to all as if it is a ‘duty’ not a joy. Well, when my mother delivered her bread it was not only about the bread but it was a time to visit, sit and catch up with relatives or friends that maybe we did not see for months.

I also remember the pain as my mother grew ill, and year by year it was harder for her to make her bead, until she finally went blind. The Easter that she could not see anymore, I stepped in and under her verbal instruction, took over the bread baking duty. Yes, even a sad thing kept the family together by helping each other out.

She has been gone 14 years now. And as I look back, I prepare to purchase the supplies and start my baking tradition of the Easter bread. I am so glad that I had taken the time to watch and learn so I can keep this tradition. Oh, I don’t make as many loaves, but I still get to see the joy in my brother’s eyes and that of my neighbors when I deliver the loaves to them. Last year, my neighbor across the street told me how nice it was to get something that was not store bought, that was made by hand with care and pride and how much more that meant to her, than just a cake or candy bought from the store… You see, it is comments like that - that makes it all worth while.

Those of you who have children, no matter what age, even the rebellious teens - make them sit even for one hour, do as I do - make them color those eggs or bake that bread with you or whatever it is. Talk them into participating in a family tradition, and one day, when they have grown into adults, they will come to you, or as I do now - look up to the sky - and thank you for sharing that ’special family secret’ with them.