On Good Friday, in what has become an unofficial tradition, my sister and I have met at my mother’s house to bake bread for Easter.
The recipe that we use is one that we inherited from our father, the family baker. I have to admit that for the first year or two, the bread that came out of the oven did not resemble in any way the loaves that our father would bake. It has taken my sister and I years of practice to get the bread to rise just right, and come out of the oven in the perfect golden color. I feel like the same can be said for all of our lives endeavors—work, relationships, faith—all good things require the right amount of time, patience and effort.
I’m looking forward to our ventures tomorrow. I can see why making bread is a favorite Easter tradition in many families. The symbolism of the need to knead the bread to the perfect form, as well as the joy at seeing it rise, is not lost on me. It reminds me to focus on the trials of Jesus in his last days, which we remember during Holy Week, as well as look forward to the joy of the Resurrection.
Have a happy and holy Easter, everyone!