We
live in the Willamette Valley in Oregon (Wil-lam-it; Or-e-gun). We
know when Spring has arrived, our daffodils start coming up. Spring seems to offer new starts. Winter is gone, and some
beautiful days are ahead. It’s my wife’s favorite season (and so
is Christmas!). Personally, I like Fall. I love the cool breeze and
the beautiful leaves on the trees. For me, Spring is a close second.
St. Valentine’s Day may be in
February, but the old saying goes:
“In
the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.”
– Alfred, Lloyd Tennyson
Love,
is indeed, in the air.
I
imagine you have read the Velveteen Rabbit by Margery
Williams.
It
chronicles the story of a stuffed
rabbit's
desire to become real through the love of his owner:
"What
is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by
side near the nursery fender before Nana came to tidy the room.
"Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out
handle?"
"Real
isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing
that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time,
not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does
it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes,"
said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are
Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does
it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or
bit by bit?"
"It
doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You
become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to
people who break easily or have sharp edges, or who have to be
carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your
hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in
the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all,
because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who
don't understand."
There
are some evil things going on in the world right now, but it’s good
to know that love can conquer any of that.
There
are various stories about Easter. Pictures come to mind like eggs
(from bunnies?), candy, Easter baskets, etc. When I was a boy
growing up in Indiana, my Mom would dress us up in our “Sunday
finest.” We would pose for photos in front of our house flower bed.
Little suits, ties, and Fedora hats. We looked so well behaved, but
much of the time we would be underfoot so Mom would yell, “You
kids go out and play in the street!” I know that sounds odd, but
we lived on a dead-end street with little traffic. It was a safe
place to kick bounce balls and throw footballs. We also had plenty
of yard space. No one had fences then and one yard continued into
another.
Spring.
Though winters could be harsh, and we would receive lake effect snow
off of Lake Michigan, the hope of Spring brought brighter days ahead.
Spring
is a wonderful time in that God reminds us that life may seem gone,
but only dormant. On that Resurrection Sunday we call Easter, the
dormancy of death could not keep Jesus buried in a tomb. He broke
out of there so he could always play with us in the street. And with
that, demonstrated no evil can defeat His good, giving us hope that
would never end. He is real, and his love is eternal, it never gets “loved-off.”