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It's Easter weekend, and for all of the Christian flocks, it is the end of 40 days of fasting, atonement and serious study of what it all means. Recounting the life and death of Jesus Christ each Lenten season is nothing short of a spiritual roller coaster. At its end, there is reason to celebrate the promise that Jesus will return.
For many, this weekend also is about the fabled Easter Bunny, a festive meal and of course, candy.
For months preceding this weekend, the stores have been filled with Peeps, chocolate bunnies, peanut butter eggs, jelly beans and much more.
My childhood memories of Easter included waking up to the smell of ham roasting in the oven -- a sign of good things to come.
Our dad insisted on decorating the ham with pineapple rings and maraschino cherries.
Colorful Easter baskets lined with that bothersome fake grass and then hidden for youngsters to find was another highlight of the day. However, no candy was consumed until after Sunday morning Mass.
The key was hiding the treats from the dogs and the cat that shared our childhood home. We also learned to never leave our Easter baskets near a window on a warm spring day.
And Easter Day would not be complete without the sweet smell of chocolate wafting up from the baskets.
Mom was a candy connoisseur, and there was never a lack of the sweets on Easter.
But there was another scent that I can remember to this day that reminds me of Easter -- shoe polish.
I know that sounds odd, but our dad taught us from a young age the importance of shining our shoes, especially before going to church.
Putting our best feet forward was not an option with him.
He told us you can tell a lot about a man from his shoes. They can be old and worn, but it only takes a minute or two to make them clean.
Maybe some of his penchant for shiny shoes came from his time as an infantry sergeant in the U.S. Army during World War II. He did a lot of walking across Europe.
Dad had a wooden shoe box filled with polishes, rags and buffing brushes that we were shown how to use to achieve the spit polish finish to our even hand-me-down shoes.
There was a finesse to working up that shine and removing scuff marks from white patent leather.
It's funny the things that stand out in our memories when it comes to holidays. I doubt the smell of shoe polish is high on many people's lists, but it and chocolate make me smile any day.
Have a blessed and happy Easter.
Heather Ziegler can be reached via email at hziegler@theintelligencer.net.