I grew up attending Sunday school at a small United Church in Montreal. Each Sunday, I would put on a fancier outfit than I was used to, with those irritating panty hose, and go down to the church basement with my sister. She is three years older than me, so she was normally in the "much cooler" youth group.
As a group we would all quietly, or so I thought at the time, sneak up the back stairs and into the front pews of the sanctuary.
We were only up there for an average of 20 minutes, but I can still remember counting down the time until I could return to that large basement to listen to children's bible stories and watch an occasional Veggie Tales movie.
There's something about vegetables acting that can get a child to listen to the very same story they were secretly ignoring from the minister five minutes ago.
My mother was a Sunday school teacher for most of my years attending Verdun United. She always had a knack for bring creativity into the lessons, and into her designated family time upstairs.
She would bring plants, dirt, and animals into the sanctuary. This of course included my conveniently Veggie Tales named turtles, Larry, Darryl and Josephine. I assume their names made them more acceptable with the older church members. The turtles squirmed around in front, as my mother attempted to teach us kids
I am still sure that most of the children don't remember the meaning of any of these stories, but for the ones that do it probably made religion a little easier to understand.
I can't say I have always been the perfectly devoted Christian. I no longer attend church service every Sunday, and I sometimes make decisions that would be frowned upon. I do have tattoos; I sometimes sway dance at clubs, or even let out a curse word here and there.
I do however attend all holiday church services. I know, when people hear that they often think that this is a parent dragged event, or that it is somehow just done out of guilt. I do still consider myself a girl of faith however, and I go to church services, as I feel a pull in that direction inside. I have never believed that God is only in one place, or that he would judge me for worshiping outside, or in my own bedroom.
Getting to my point, the holidays have become events for everyone, including atheists. If there is a God, which I believe there is, I doubt he would want us to turn our backs on our friends and family.
Easter and Christmas, happen because of God's own son, so why not take it as a time to appreciate your loved ones.
Every holiday around my house was an open invitation. Had no where to go? We welcomed you to our table with open arms.
Even after I moved away to attend Photojournalism college in Ontario, I made it home for every special occasion. As a vegetarian, this may at times have been difficult for my family, but they always made it work.
My family was never perfect. We don't even always make enough time for each other, but it has always been filled with love. We are all extremely different, and sit on opposite ends of every major world issue. We still somehow sit down at Easter and Christmas to think about the good we have.
The Veggie Tale movies, the Sunday school/spiritual animator mother and a church leader who left a lasting impression on me before his passing, have all taught me that family and love are what is important in this world.
As the world becomes more technology obsessed, and we begin to only make time for each other online, it is important to be together a couple of times a year to enjoy real live company.
Let me just say that experiencing my first holiday alone, has brought me to the conclusion that sharing family dinner of Skype, will never quite be enough for me.
I would never be where I am now, at such a young age without being taken to Sunday-school or church in my Easter monstrosity of a dress.
My first Easter Sunday alone, has also made me homesick for the first time in my life. I didn't wake up in my apartment I shared with my sister, nor in my parent's animal filled home. I missed my four-legged family as much as my human family. There was no dog to show me his sad "starving" puppy eyes, or a cat to walk across a freshly set table. No family having 10 different conversations over the top of each other, accompanied by louder and louder voices.
Carlyle is an extremely different experience. I haven't really made any friends yet, as I have only been in town three weeks. I never made it to the church service, so it marks the first Easter I have worshiped on my own. And yet after spending a holiday alone, I think I appreciate my family more than I ever have.
