It was a strange Easter in Central Florida, at least weather-wise. After a week or two of hot weather, it suddenly cooled down to a low of 40 degrees Easter morning.
This threw everyone in confusion. It hardly ever gets that cold even at Christmas, though we hope for it then, so we can wear our holiday-decorated sweaters and such. But it's not supposed to be cold at Easter.
Oooh, ach, they tried valiantly, the parishioners at our little church. Some came out with their straw Easter hats (though they probably wished for ski hats) and light-cool summerweight tea dresses, with chill-pimples all over their bare, shivering arms. Some put winter coats over such gear, adding a touch of incongruity to the festivities. Some wore sweaters and jeans. Some (like me) reached into the backs of their closet and wore whatever longsleeve outfit they could find.
It was a fashion Tower of Babel.
Imagine the kiddies hunting Easter eggs with their poor little bare legs hanging out.
The good news is, none of that made any difference. Here is what matters: Christ is risen indeed, alleluia, and we shall continue the celebration!