Personal Narrative

Easter Time

“When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.”

-King James Bible, 1 Corinthians 13:11

            The innocent, carefree days were always the best. Enjoying the company of my family, being able to joke around. Although, through ages six to eleven I didn’t really get to see many of those moments. Those were the years when my brother, who is two years older than me, and I would be in a constant state of rage and hatred against each other. Hair would be pulled and faces punched. It was a miracle if my mum could make it through a day without having to break apart a fight. But even though I’m completely aware that 98% of the time was spent like that, it’s the other 2% times that are fresh in my mind.

            Picture perfect Easter Sunday is as welcome as a present when I wake up in my room, decorated so exact for a six year old who didn’t notice. Chocolate is on my mind, although I know church comes first. I pull on my pink Easter dress, oh so proud that I could do it by myself, and I stalk out of my room like I own the place. Everyone is relatively ready to leave for church and I find it a startling surprise when there has not been a single argument in the car between my brother and I. And that is it. That sets me in an excellent mood.

            By the time we get in our car after church, my three older brothers and even my 18 month old baby brother have caught the giggles, and we are joking around like best friends. My mother can hardly believe it. When we arrive home, my mother makes us stand outside as she runs in. She comes out, camera in hand, and lines us up. We are out there for at least 45 minutes with my mother telling us where to stand and how to tilt our heads, but we barely notice. Jokes and funny stories are being told by my oldest brother and even my mother adds in a few of her own. “Knock-knock!”

            “Who’s there?” us kids scream in chorus.

            The sun is in the sky and the air warm when we go back into my house, laughter still ringing through my head like a choir. ‘I wish everyday could be like this,’ I thought as we sat down to dinner. But I know it’s impossible.

            Harmony in my home is practically never ending now, with only the occasional fight breaking out like bad acne. My brother, who I had thought to be my worst enemy is now one of my best friends. Laughter is used commonly for inside jokes and new stories. And though I would never fathom this before, love is a strong spirit within my family. And on those special “2%” days I have learned what really had taken place; we all forgave each other for the things the other days we would’ve considered inexcusable. We trusted each other and we were honest. That is the basis for the relationship I have with them now. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.