The days leading up to Easter Sunday were happy for us, and full of anticipation, but a whole lot of work for Jesus and Mommy.
The photo is from Easter Sunday, 1972. Mommy had begun sewing later than usual, was busy putting finishing touches on coats and dresses, and Daddy was given the shoe-shopping task. He allowed my big sister Robyn and me get what we wanted when we got to the J.C. Penney store in Eastover Shopping Center. When we hurried to the back of the store, searched the shelves, and picked up our choice, he said, "Is that what ya'll want?" He wasn't down with spending all day in the store. He gave the salesman the shoe, and asked him to measure our feet. We'd picked out a pair of white, patent leather sling-backed mules. The salesman said he was sure they were out of my size. I'd become accustomed to that, and was disappointed until I saw the pretty white t-strapped pump with the chunky heel. I pointed them out to my father, and he gave the shoe to the salesman. When he came out from the stockroom with two boxes I was elated. Robyn and I strutted around on the store carpet like models. Daddy asked how they felt, and we both said "Fine!" It was a VERY happy day for me. No flat, long, ugly white, babyish, orthopedic shoes, but a pretty pair of t-strapped pumps that made my feet appear smaller. We walked out of the store smiling and swinging our shopping bags. Mommy was shocked and fussed for quite a while when she saw them. Clearly the shoes didn't come from the children's department. She said something about us being too young, and mentioned broken ankles or legs and such--but she saw how happy we were, shook her head, kept sewing, and let us keep them. She understood. She liked shoes, too. Besides, Daddy wasn't taking us back, it was Saturday evening--Easter Eve--and the store would be closing soon.
When we posed for photos the next morning, my main concern was whether or not my shoes were in the picture frame. I was so happy that Easter. My feet hurt for the first time, too. Maybe there was something to those trips to Stride Rite and Boyce and Lewis that my mother insisted upon.
Jesus' feet hurt, too, one dreadful day, and sometimes, when wearing my now beloved high heels, it seems like I'm on a sick mission to feel his pain.
Happy Resurrection Sunday.
Love won...: )
"He is not here; he has risen, just as he said." ~Matthew 28:6
"Don't be alarmed," he said. "You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him." ~Mark 16:6
"But God raised him from the dead, freeing him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on him." ~Acts 2:24
"LOW IN THE GRAVE HE LAY"
Words and music by Robert Lowry, 1874
Low in the grave He lay, Jesus my Savior,
Waiting the coming day, Jesus my Lord!
Vainly they watch His bed, Jesus my Savior;
Vainly they seal the dead, Jesus my Lord!
Death cannot keep its Prey, Jesus my Savior;
He tore the bars away, Jesus my Lord!
Up from the grave He arose,
With a mighty triumph o’er His foes,
He arose a Victor from the dark domain,
And He lives forever, with His saints to reign.
He arose! He arose!
Hallelujah! Christ arose!