It's Easter. And family and friends are coming to dinner, so I dig through the plastic tote overstuffed with baskets and plastic eggs - butterfly wind chimes and Easter tree decorations that were never unwrapped.
And I hang the banner on the porch - the one I made when the boys were little - with sun-bleached tulips on green gingham.
And the pink banner with the palm branch and bread and grapes - and a crowing rooster and bleeding lamb - and purple butterfly and ribbons dangling.
And now it's the day after and I think I'll keep the banners up for a while, because how could we - why would we - on this side of the cross - ever want to go back?
