I am a child of the Christian tradition and so Easter is a time of significance each year.  I do not refer to the eggs and the bunnies when I write this but, rather, the contemplative aura that extends over the days and weeks before the celebration has always had a great effect upon me.

In 1979, I had the priviledge to visit Israel.  It was that experience that has influenced my reaction to Easter ever since.  The sun-bleached buildings, the cobblestone walks, the cacophony of sounds that human beings make in small, crowded  market places.  There, it was easy for me to close my eyes and to picture a man, a teacher, riding on a donkey through the relatively massive enty to the city of Jerusalem.  The slow, rhythmic roll of the animal’s gait and the sound of its hooves on the stones would certainly be audible. People who knew the teacher would call out in recognition but their voices would only be some of the many hurrying inside in order to prepare for the local festival.  The astounding events of the days that followed are in glaring contrast to the humility of this earlier scene.

These thoughts, and so many more, crowded my mind this morning as I walked with the dogs up the lane to the donkeys’ paddocks.  The animals were basking in the early morning sunshine and their presence called to me to come and stand at the fence awhile.  The only sounds were those of birds twittering about their business and then the occasional rustle of a body being shaken.  It was very easy to let my mind wander and to reimagine in much detail that very modest beginning to a chain of events –  events that would resonate throughout the centuries and around the world. 

Sandra Pady, Founder


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