It was a lovely Easter. I was disappointed at first that we slept through the sunrise service in the frescoed-Church-on-the-Hill, but the day was so beautiful in ways sleep deprivation wouldn’t have allowed that the disappointment swiftly dissipated. We headed at 1pm to Easter ‘brunch’ at Hans’ Aunt and Uncle’s place. His Aunt is so delightful - it pains me that a real relationship with her hides behind the seemingly insurmountable wall of Hungarian. Given my slow to naught progress on German and Romanian, Hungarian seems too distant a dream to even warrant dreaming. After brunch, Hans’ cousin, Arpie, called his girlfriend and the four of us headed to a little river just out of Sighisoara; their favorite picnic spot. Anna Maria was delightful, a bright, light spirit, fluent in Romanian, Hungarian, and to my delight, English! We lingered in the afternoon sun, under the Transylvania blue sky, in the midst of spring springing up around us. I had to giggle when I imagined how our little scene looked from above – the cast fishing pole waiting for fish, Arpie throwing a tomahawk at a tree while Hans and I stood barefoot in the grass shooting bows and arrows to Anna Maria’s laughter and encouragement. Was it Easter in Romania or a lovers’ afternoon in Native America 1462? The rest of the family joined us for dinner later as we all laughed at the antics of Hans’ soon-to-be-six second cousin. Children are such rich resources for laughter. Afterwards, Hans and I hobbled home to a hot foot bath and tweezers party - it seems our winter feet weren’t quite ready for Transylvania’s springtime nettles. We then snuggled into bed and watched youtube videos on the meaning of Easter and stories of Jesus’ time on earth. BBC did a documentary called Jesus in Kashmir, India that I found fascinating, convincing, and, for me at least, a reassurance in the beauty of Christianity. You can find it here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9DXCZFRsyl8 It was clear that spring upped winter yesterday in the battle for the Transylvania countryside as I walked Hans to the train station in the bright morning sun, my jacket dangling from a finger over my shoulder. Walking back I realized I could feel my own spirit coming out of hibernation. It has been a long four months of rootlessness – from November 1st to March 6th I had woken up in my own bed just 22 out of 128 days. I returned from a two month project in the states, physically ill and worn to the bone. Two weeks nursed by love and I, like the tender flower shoots in my window sill, feel reborn. Apropos for Easter. I hope your spring equinox/Easter/Purim weekend was a beautiful sharing and a hint of the birth that follows death - in seasons, in emotions, and in life. Fear not the snow, for it will melt; yet rejoice the spring for it too will whither and fade away. With love and wishes for cherry blossoms and tulips to come your way soon, Sherry
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