Daffodils and chocolate mark Easter Sunday this year. No church, no family gathering, a muted celebration, yet still a time for hope in these distressing weeks. The hope that comes with Easter has never been so needed as now. An Easter like no other, it is a weekend for continuing reflection as the ‘lockdown’ continues.
For me, I will always associate Good Friday with visits to Rye with my auntie and uncle, loaded to the hilt with hot cross buns for the bus journey from Eastbourne. I loved the pottery shops, the ancient church with its views over to the distant, receding sea. One year we bathed in the somewhat chilly sea and warmed up with hot coffee and cold cross buns.
Dominic Raab has said he appreciates the sacrifices we are making; that it’s the little things like Easter egg hunts with grandchildren, family get-togethers that will be missed. Surely, these are the big things in life. These are the things that really matter.
Easter Day felt really strange. No normal hustle and bustle of church and family lunches to prepare. Instead, a quiet walk along a nearby lane with views over towards the open countryside and distant Dartmoor. As a friend wrote to me, “Easter is a celebration of hope; so, let’s take some of this into our daily lives. I am sure we all need quite a bit of it.”