As a young girl, it was always my job to mill tomatoes on Sunday morning before Mass. The pot would simmer away as we all went to Church. My Gram would cook the meat when we got home and add it into the pot. There was much love added to the herbs and stirring that continued all afternoon. If there was a holiday, the sauce and meat would start the same way. The difference would be in the macaroni and the involvement of the whole family. The macaroni would be made from scratch and assembly would take the effort of everyone. My Grandparents are both gone now and at a time when my parents can't continue the traditions of our families, I can. I taught Tim to make the delicate crepes that would be Manicotti. The girls helped with stuffing and rolling them and a fine Easter meal was put together. The best part was watching the smiles and misty eyes of both parents. We haven't had this dish since my Grandmother's passing eight years ago. Our family may be smaller and some are far away, but hearts and memories keep us close. Both family and community.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Holidays bring more than families together. Years ago, Father Hal offered the women of his Church, the basement. A place to teach and learn to do Pysanky. The beautiful work is done with beeswax and dye on raw eggs. I took a class from Mrs. Prehoda several Springs ago. I enjoyed the labor intensive work and was quite proud of my dear little egg. Unfortunately, it blew up some time later. I do carry with me a sense of awe at the intricate work these ladies of our community do.