The Hidden Path (WINNER OF THE BEAUTY AWARD for Spiritual)

Easter (part two)

Treat others the way you want to be treated yourself.
- The Golden Rule

"Yes," I sighed, "and face the family. . ."

Easter was another one of those Christian holidays that my parents took quite seriously. Which was why my whole (rather small) extended family - consisting of my grandparents, grandpa's sister plus husband (no kids), Mum's sister with her worse (literally!) half and my two cousins - were currently sitting upstairs on our terrace, enjoying tea, café (Ovaltine for me) and cake.

On Dad's side, his mum and sister had both converted to the 'Born Again Christians', who strictly refused to celebrate any birthdays or church holidays.

I might have understood the part about the church holidays, although I personally loved Christmas. If you did not adhere to the official Christian faith, you were definitely entitled not to observe those days. But not to celebrate any birthdays. . . I thought that was just. . . cruel! Because, what child does not love to receive presents and be pampered on its special day? What child does not bask in the attention that is showered upon its little head, as well as in all the other gestures of appreciation? I felt deeply sorry for my two cousins (boy and girl), who were missing out on all of this. Although I could not decide whom to pity more: Martin, whose birthday used to be celebrated until he was about seven (when his Mum joined) or Martina, who never even got to have the experience.

Don't get me wrong: of course, a child should not have to depend on a birthday celebration to feel its parents' love. If that is the case, then there is something seriously awry with the family.

But there is nothing wrong with making somebody feel extra special once in a while!

But to each his own. . .

As you can imagine, I did not see that branch of our family very often, due to the lack of occasions (and because Mum could not stomach being lectured on how sinfully she was living).

These thoughts briefly flitted through my mind, while I was climbing up the stairs leading to our living room.

After the big family-lunch inside, Mum had settled everybody on the terrace, arranging the group around two tables: the one against the wall for the 'grown ups' and another, close to the railing, for us 'children'. (Ignoring the fact that my older cousin Markus was already nineteen. . .)

Stepping outside a moment after Beni, who politely greeted the adults in passing, I immediately spotted my white-haired, chubby grandmother. She was busy eyeing our newly arrived guests suspiciously. She did not like strangers. Or foreigners. Which was a bit hypocritical, really, since she herself had been born and grown up in Slovenia. . .

I shook my head imperceptibly. I loved her. But in some respects, she was unquestionably a bit backward. She was, however, blessed with the perfect skin: alabaster, without a single wrinkle. Well, my grandmother had never enjoyed being out in the sun. A character trait, which Mum definitely had not inherited!

Come to think of it. . . those two women did not have much in common at all. In a lot of respects, they were actually true opposites. Just considering Granny's issue with strangers, for example. Mum loved getting to know new people, deeply enjoyed traveling and she had made so many friends over the years, keeping in touch with all of them kept my parents quite busy. . .

My eyes moved on to my aunt Hanni, who was sitting right next to my grandmother. The woman, who outwardly shared a lot of features with my Mum, was dominating the conversation at the grown-ups table, as usual.

". . .she did not even greet me properly! Can you imagine? The nerve of this woman! So I said. . ."

I only needed to hear a few words to know that she was either gossiping or complaining about somebody, or both. No surprise there.