Many of us have happy memories of Easter. When I was a bit older than Holly, about age five, I wore a stiff crinoline skirt with stiff netting to church, which itched my legs and made me cross. My sister Lori looked sweet in her Easter hat, layers of lace over a soft frame with her enormous blue eyes framed by silky lashes. Frilly socks and patent leather shoes on our feet, Easter lilies on the church altar, spring leaves and new grass blades, our parents all dressed up, too . . . our family was looking its best. I remember the sense of being with them, of belonging, of feeling pleased with my family. After church, how fun it was to search the yard for candy treats brought by the Easter bunny.