Finding Easter

Some people believe in the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. Some people truly believe that a fluffy bunny hops down some thousands of trails to people's homes to deliver chocolate copies of itself, jelly beans, and baskets of goodies. Some people truly believe that an ancient man spends all year with his elves at the North Pole creating millions of toys that he somehow manages to deliver to every child around the world in one night, Christmas Eve.
Even when others point out that hundreds of thousands of children go without chocolate bunnies and Christmas presents every year, they still firmly believe in these beings.
I always wondered about the people who didn't celebrate those days. They'd have to deal with random appearances of a giant rabbit and a loony old man breaking into their house every year, whether it was to deliver presents or coal.
Then there were the neighbors. Strong Christians, as Easter approached they talked more and more about the resurrection of Christ, and what it meant for all people. Mom and Dad listened politely, but my brother more often than not rolled his eyes and left as quickly as possible, not caring about being polite. I'd listened a couple of times, and attempted to ask some questions myself. It seemed to them that because I questioned the facts of a dead man coming back to life, I should be devil-possessed, and I had been lucky to escape with my hearing intact. Still, most of the stories they regaled me with fell out the back of my head the moment they stopped, so it wasn't too bad.
And, of course, there were "the diversity couples" down the road. There was a Muslim family, a couple who professed Hinduism, and a family of three who were Taoists. None of them celebrated Easter in any way, shape, or form, and didn't bother too much, save to moan along with us about the shopping crowds.
Everywhere we went in town was the same. Packed shops getting all the junk they needed for the day--foam crosses, packs of juice, and cookies for the Sunday school groups; pre-made baskets for the kids at home, or bags of goods and wicker baskets to be put together the moment the young ones weren't looking; mottos and plaques, signs for the yard; new Bibles to gift to family members; crosses; flower necklaces, fake flower leis and such to drape over everyone and everything; and the clothing stores were overflowing with frilly, pastel-coloured dresses and sandals.
Then there was the very religious crowd, who moved through the mess of people and objects, preaching against how material the day of Christ's resurrection had become, and how we shouldn't think about the Easter baskets, but the meaning behind it all....

Honestly, what a nightmare. It was better at Christmas, apart from the shipping.

*

I woke suddenly. It was dark, still night. The full moon shone brightly, but it was still very dim. I put my head back on my pillow, wondering what had woken me. The tree branches outside moved restlessly with the wind, and I watched the shadows on the tile for a while.

May the Circle never be broken.

I jolted upright. Was my brother playing a trick on me? He didn't usually, but hey...
I stared into the darker parts of my room, trying my hardest to see anyone standing there.
Shaking my head, I lay back down. Just my head making things up. Probably the trees outside were making just the right sounds....Making such excuses up to soothe my racing heart, I began to drift off to sleep again.

CIRCLE.....never be broken....never.....never broken.

My eyes snapped open, and my breathing came fast. I couldn't have made that up, right? My mind surely couldn't be saying these things....Those trees had stopped moving already.
Sitting up warily, I left the warmth of my bed to turn the light on. I flipped the switch.
There was a quick flash of light, and then the unmistakeable fizzling of a dead lightbulb. I groaned in frustration. That would be my luck. I opened my toolbox sitting on the shelves by the door, and pulled out my flashlight. I had just replaced the batteries this morning, after the camping trip Saturday night. It flicked on with no trouble, and I sighed in relief. At least something was working the way it should.
I flashed the light throughout the room, and didn't see my brother or any incriminating radios or hidden recorders anywhere, even after a further manual search.
A little annoyed with myself for getting so freaked out over nothing, I chucked the flash onto the bed, and plopped back down on the now-cold sheets. I sat there for a while, being as silent as I could, listening for anything...
Nothing.
I clicked the flashlight switch into the 'off' position and put it down beside my bed. Just in case. Pulling the covers up and around me again, I attempted sleep for the third time that night.

The Circle will never be broken.

I sighed, and turned my head into the pillow trying my hardest to ignore whatever it was, and go back to sleep.

~

I made it to morning, though I never got back to sleep. The whispered voice continued at irregular intervals during the night, sometimes louder, sometimes softer. I wondered briefly if I was going mad.
Hello? I had called many times in the night, trying it in my brain. Seeing if it would alleviate the annoying hissing. But it never had. Even when I called into my darkened room.

The moment dawn broke I leapt from bed and hurried out to the laundry room, where we kept the spare bulbs.
"Yes!" I hissed. We still had several boxes of the old bulbs, the ones that they claimed weren't eco-friendly. These gave the best light, and it was a pity they were going to stop making them.
I quickly changed the bulb in my room with the aid of the small stepladder we had in the pantry, before pulling on some clothes and hurrying outside. Though we lived in a nice neighborhood, we still had a huge backyard. I ran across the grass several times, feeling the wet blades slide across my skin through the sandals I wore. By the time I was well and truly forgetting last night, my breath came in heavy pants, and my jeans were wet several inches above the hem.
I went back inside to start the coffee before my parents got up. Dad was going to work, and Mom liked getting up early.
Then I dragged my books out, and hurried through my schoolwork. I was finished with my math by the time breakfast was done, and I'd gone through two cups of coffee. Mom smiled at me as she set down the plates on the small kitchen table.
"Getting a head start?" she asked, going back to the stove.
"Getting done." I replied, finished checking the last problem, and tucking my books down on the bench beside me.
"That's good." she said a little absently as she looked out the kitchen window to the beautiful yard lined with dark trees at its edge. I began to eat. If I wanted to wait for my younger brother, it could be hours before I got to eat.

^

Sitting outside as a cool breeze blew across the yard, I pondered the words I'd kept hearing last night. Even when I was in my room, I'd heard nothing all day. It was well past lunchtime now, and I'd spent a couple of hours in my room, silent, thinking, and writing a little.
I hadn't found much info on the lines online, just semi-matching lyrics, and a couple of videos that had nothing to do with what I'd wanted. Closing the window, I'd been a little more annoyed that I couldn't find it, but had left the laptop for the outdoors.
Now, watching the trees, I thought about Easter again. The neighbors had some Christian radio station playing with a couple windows open. Occasionally, Mrs. Greene's voice would join in, or one of the daughters. I sighed, tucking my hands in my pockets, before crossing the yard to the trees. I opened the small gate we had in the wooden fence, and stepped through. The trees were lovely, just starting to bloom, some with barely a few leaves beginning to grow.
I stood amongst the trees, feeling at peace, like I was where I was meant to be. Not that I'd tell anyone that.
Pausing to brush a finger across a soft new leaf, I wondered if George would stop by. He was usually busy with some project or other, but I hoped he would. Maybe then I could tell him about the weird happenings of last night. He'd be the only one I would trust with the information--and I could trust he wouldn't laugh at me.
I went over after dinner, and we sat on his back porch for a little while. I explained in low tones about what had happened to me last night. It being later in the day, with the sun setting, my story sounded a little more believable. He didn't laugh, as I had hoped, but shrugged.
"I don't know what to tell you, Kim. It could be anything, though I doubt it was the trees or your mind making things up. Just 'cause you didn't see a recorder doesn't necessarily mean there wasn't one."
"Yeah, I'd thought that too..." I drifted into my own thoughts, as did he.
When I finally dragged myself back to the present, George was tugging my hand.
"Come on, you have to go back home now."
"Oh, alright." I sighed. I never wanted to leave George's house. There was something about it that drew me to it. I loved it there, and not just because it was my best pal's house.
Instead of going around between George's house and the one next-door, I went back inside with George.
"We'll see you, Kim," his mother said with a smile, from where she sat in the living room. George's dad was in the kitchen, making something that smelled delicious and sweet. I waved to him, and he waved a little back, before bending to get a spice. I saw something glitter around his neck, and wondered why he wore a necklace.
Not wanting to go, I asked him, even when I didn't think it was the best thing to do.
"What's around your neck, sir?" I asked. Considering he was the only one I called 'sir' when visting, he knew I was speaking to him. He looked up at me sharply, and his hand went automatically to his neck, where the chain glittered. I'd never noticed it there before.
He pulled the charm free of his shirt, and I could see a Triskelion--a triple spiraled object. It was made of silver, and was on a thick cord, which was broken up with links of silver chain every few inches.
"Neat." I said. "Why do you wear that?"
He looked at his wife on the couch.
"I'd love to explain, but you really do have to go home. Your mother called over a few minutes ago, and she said she'd be coming to get you in five minutes."
"Alright," I said. "Can I come over tomorrow so you can explain?" He nodded, smiling gently, and I left with a smiled on my face too. George kissed my cheek before I left, and I pulled him into a hug.
"See you, George." I said.
"See you, Kim," he responded, and I left, hurrying across the darkened street to my home.

-

I dreaded going to bed. I didn't want to find out if the voice would return. I reluctantly went to my room around 11 p.m., to change for bed.
All I need to say here is that I never got any sleep--yeah, the voice returned, speaking of unbroken circles, Eostre.....Eostre.....the Circle is unbroken...

```

I showed up around lunchtime at George's house. He welcomed me with his calm smile, and I stepped inside. I gave him a quick hug, and he took me over to the couch. His father was waiting for us, already seated, with a pad of paper and a pen in reach on the coffee table.
"Hello, sir!" I said, reaching over to shake his hand in greeting. He returned the gesture, and smiled before motioning for me to sit down. I saw the necklace he wore this time.
"Right, so you wanted to know about the symbol I wear?" I nodded eagerly. I hadn't been this excited about anything for a while, even though I was running on an hour of sleep.
"Are you sure? You promise to listen with an open mind, and let me finish?" A little taken aback, I nodded again. I felt so at home here, so wonderfully at peace, with George at my side, and the welcoming glow the house seemed to have.
"Right then. George? You want to show him yours?" I looked at George quickly, and George tugged a Triskelion on a cord like his father's out from under his tee.
"Wow, really? How long have you guys been wearing these?" I asked, astonished. I leant forward to take the charm into my fingers, looking at the symbol closer. There were small Celtic knots engraved on the surface of both sides, running down each "leg" of the spirals.
"I've been wearing mine for most of my adult life, since I was seventeen, actually." George's father responded. "And George has been wearing one since he was ten. He got this special version when he turned seventeen a few months ago." I nodded, surprised still. They'd been wearing these necklaces since before they'd moved here, and I'd never noticed in all the years that they'd lived across from us.
"So, what do they mean?"
Taking a deep breath, George's dad began to explain why they wore the charms, as well as the symbolism behind the Triskelions.
He told me specifically what the Triskelions were often explained as:
"This is said on a website that you can visit," he said, as he wrote down the link. "The Triads: 'Three things from which never to be moved: one's Oaths, one's Gods, and the Truth. The Three highest causes of the true human are: Truth, Honour, and Duty. Three candles that illuminate every darkness: Truth, Nature, and Knowledge." {See first comment below by me for web address.}
"So.....you really believe in the Celtic Gods and Goddesses?" I asked in a quiet voice. George and his dad both nodded, sincere. I took a breath.
"Go on."

=

When I left that night, I held a thick book in my hand containing info on the Gods and Goddesses of the Celtic Reconstructionists, and a list of websites to visit. George and his father had been great, carefully explaining and answering my questions as they told me the wonders of believing in Them. I could hardly believe this. This was why their house felt the way it did--it was filled with happiness, filled with contentment, filled with laughter, belief, and prayer. They followed the Wheel of the Year, celebrating the holidays sometimes at home, sometimes with a group of Celtic Reconstructionists a few hours' drive away in a larger town.
By the time George had recounted his personal experiences with the Gods and Goddesses, I was reeling. George, whom I'd known for so long, followed a religion I'd never known people followed. George had had several personal experiences with several Gods and Goddesses.......the thought was incredible.
They had then gone on to explain where Easter really came from. How it was Eostre's Day, the day of Fertility, of rejoicing, of the First Day of Spring. That day was filled with the celebrations of the Celts welcoming the new year of life, the spin of the wheel, the continuance of the circle.........
I had asked, at first hesitantly, about what they might know about an unbroken Circle. When prodded, I had finally explained why I had asked about it---telling them about the voice at night, constantly whispering.
George and his father shared a look.
"You're having a personal experience already, Kim," George said, a wide smile on his face. "She's Calling you, to know the truth. There's a reason you haven't noticed our Triskelions until now, there's a reason She's calling to you now."
"Really?" I whispered, stunned.
"The Circle referred to would probably be that of life, death, and life again, or rebirth. The Circle of the Year is an unbroken one. It usually represents infinity, or love--the symbolism is pretty universal." George's father told me.
"Would--that is, if you aren't doing anything--would you like to join us for a little celebration Celtic style this Easter Sunday instead of at a church? It isn't the right day, but, since you've been Called, and are wondering....and this would be the perfect opportunity to show you," he continued.
I agreed hastily. Though they went on to explain to me that it wasn't the day for Eostre's celebration, I still wanted to join in on some of this before the next holiday--it seemed too far away!
By the time they had gone further into their explanations and answered many more of my questions, it was dinnertime. I was allowed to stay over for dinner, and didn't have to go home until late. I stayed, and George's mother added her own insights over supper once she had returned from work.
When I did get home, I fired up my computer, and went to check out the sites as fast as possible to bookmark them, and read a little more from the groups of people across America.
When it was 1 a.m., I tucked myself in bed, and skimmed through the book, already planning what I would read when I was awake enought to take it all in.
As I turned out the lights, and slipped under the covers, head buried in my pillow, I smiled. The voice seemed to sing, a song of happiness, a song of Truth. It was like a lullaby and I soon fell asleep to it, knowing that I had found Easter.