Remembering Lent

The short, dark days in February and March were the perfect setting for Lent. There were the weekly rituals of stations of the cross, recitation of the rosary, benediction and confession. Before Vatican II, everything was in Latin and people of a certain age know all the words to Pange Lingua Gloriosi (Praise We Christ's Immortal Body) and Stabat Mater (for the stations of the cross). 
Adults were required to observe a complicated set of rules for fasting (not eating between meals) and abstinence from meat, while youngsters under the age of fourteen were granted a little more leeway. (I looked forward to Friday dinners with Mac 'n Cheese, potato pancakes and Mrs. Paul's Fishsticks). Everyone was urged to “give up” something like soda, candy, gum or TV.
By Holy Week, the days were getting longer and brighter, and the preparation more intense. More church visits, more rosaries, longer choir practice, baking Potica, apple strudel and painstakingly coloring pysanky eggs (every eastern European celebration seems to be time consuming).
Lent is about transformation - darkness to light, from distraction to contemplation, from busyness to solitude. Christ is risen, indeed He is risen from the dead. 
Customs that used to annoy me, now comfort and reassure me. I enjoy the symbolism of ashes, incense, the washing of feet, lighting the new fire and blessing of oils. Ash Wednesday is next week and I'm rehearsing Latin hymns.

  

Stations of the Cross at Holy Rosary Church

Potica or Povitica

Pysanky eggs - ours never looked this good