Mimetalker's Blog

a mime is a terrible thing to waste.


Illinois, USA
January 26
On this blog: All words (other than identified quotations) © Sharon Nesbit-Davis, All rights reserved. *********************************** ********************************** You can find me on Facebook: Sharon Nesbit-Daivs, or "The Mime Writes" Logo Design by Dianaani ********************************** I work as the Education & Community Engagement Director of a Regional Arts Council which means I beg "the deciders" to fund and support the arts for everyone, not just the rich. *********************************** I am also a mime. For those that hate mimes, I understand. But you'll never find me annoying people on the street, unless I'm living there. I'm a "concert mime" ...which means you have to buy a ticket. I haven't done much mime lately...I'd rather be writing. *********************************** I've been married to my one and only since 1976. Still happy. Still in love. Two kids, eight grandkids. In college I became a Baha'i (a world religion whose main theme is unity). It keeps me relatively sane in a world gone mad.


APRIL 8, 2012 2:28PM

Channeling my inner child for Easter Memories...

Rate: 13 Flag

For my "free write" exercise today, I decided to use the obvious inspiration. This is what I remember...won't swear it is the absolute truth, but it's as close as I can get. 





My family did not go to church on Easter Sunday. It was too crowded and my father's parking spot would not be honored by those who didn't know it was his. He might not get his pew either...second row from the back and he did not want to do the "Meet & Greet" with hypocrites who showed up only for holidays. Rather than be rude and disgruntled, Easter was a day off. I was grateful because my parents thought Easter dresses were silly. "Just an excuse to show off." 


My second grade Sunday School teacher explained Easter was about Jesus dying and then living again. I knew about this. "The same thing happened to my Uncle Walter."  The teacher stood still for a moment. She smiled the trying-to-be-nice-when-you-want-to-yell smile and said I must be mistaken. I gave her my not-backing-down-because-I-am-right look I had mastered from dealing with two older brothers. "It's true. I heard my parents talking about it. You can ask my mother."  My mother came to pick me up from class and was mortified. The car ride home was an interrogation of what I heard, when I heard it, how I misunderstood what I heard, and warnings about what happens to children with ears too big for their brains. 


Maybe because of my promise to pay more attention and stop living in my dream world, I finally understood Jesus died on the cross. I had seen the pictures, but didn’t know why He was up there. He was killed because people who were like the police thought He did something bad, but they were wrong. His dead body was put in a cave and then, when no one was around he became alive again and escaped.  He went to see friends and His mom, but He couldn’t stay because He was really dead and had to live in Heaven. He was good and loved everyone and so should we. That was Easter.


I didn’t know what bunnies had to do with any of this.

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Mime,thank you for sharing your first understanding on Easter..Rated with wishes for Haρρy Holidays..Best regards.I liked the title.."Channeling my inner child.."Always nice to meet inner childs...!!!!
I wanna know about the Uncle Walter thing. Should we be observing a day for his resurrection, too?

Your dad would have loved sitting behind the hypocrite at our Lutheran church one Christmas when my mother dragged her hypocritical family for the Christmas Eve service, which even my atheist dad secretly liked. Anyway, the hypocrite who sat in front of us looked sort of funny, the way he was sitting. Then my mom started silently snickering. She leaned over one way, covering her mouth with her hand, and whispered something that made my dad snicker silently. Finally after my sister and I made it clear we would make a scene if she didn't lean our way, hand over mouth, and tell us what was so damned funny. So she did. The hypocrite had forgotten to remove the hanger from the jacket of his Sunday suit, which he wore only when his wife dragged him to the holiday services. One wing of it poked up creating an odd bulge in the jacket and the tip of the hanger itself was peeking above his collar.
Stathi-thanks. Inner children are a very interesting bunch.

CM-Yes! My dad would have loved that story...maybe as much as I do!
Interesting how we see things as children. I never really questioned things alot growing up. I just sat back and waited to see what truths came out in the wash.
Painting with the Stars-I promised myself when I was a kid to always remember what it felt like, because it was obvious from the adults I knew they had forgotten. Thanks for stopping by.
Uncle Walter? I want to know about this... don't even remember an Uncle Walter ;-)
But I've only got 9 more episodes of LOST to complete now... so anything could be possible :-)
IF anyone else comes along...thank you. I am now going to my office to work on a Power Point for a presentation I need to make tomorrow morning for potential funders of a youth arts apprenticeship program. Now that I'm a Baha'i, though we honor all the religions, this is no longer my holiday. If I celebrated all religious holidays, including nine of our own, I'd be exhausted.

Happy Easter to all who celebrate.
Yeah , I agree with all this.
“warnings about what happens to children with ears too big for their brains.,” especially, as it has always been my main malady. Still is.

“children ought to be seen and not heard” is the fascist regime I grew up under.
Luckily it was 99 percent agnostic.
Never went to church a day.

The bunny was considered a hermaphrodite by medieval minds. So it was appropriate to worship,as it was virginal like Mary.
I'm with Chicken Maaannn,what happened to Uncle Walter?
It's sad yet amusing how these religious holidays have become so distorted and meaningless in today's world.

Christmas with Jesus and Santa then Easter with crosses and bunnies. No wonder kids have such strange concepts. But no matter...the chocolate is always welcome.
What a lovely memory to share with us. 'Out of the mouth of babes'!! I really did enjoy this.
There's so many things wrong about every one of those memories. I a so glad you got out and have a loving supportive family surrounding you now. Ya did good!
Your take on Easter and JC is just so fine by me.
........(¯`v´¯) (¯`v´¯)
............... *•.¸.•* ♥⋆★•❥ Thanx & Smiles (ツ) & ♥ L☼√Ξ ☼ ♥
⋆───★•❥ ☼ .¸¸.•*`*•.♥ (ˆ◡ˆ) ♥⋯ ❤ ⋯ ★(ˆ◡ˆ) ♥⋯ ❤ ⋯ ★
What a lovely story.
We all eagerly await a post about the Fate of Uncle Walter. Your parents sound like they were very sensible people. My mom would buy herself and us kids new clothes. My Dad would always joke that he got a new pair of shoelaces. Happy Easter. R
Oh thank you I'm nodding along and I get to the last line and laugh out loud....so good.r
What a great story. You just took me out of my kitchen and into Sunday school and it's Tuesday ;)

I'm with our feathered friend: What's the deal with Uncle Walter?
This is your older brother.... I don't remember this story about Uncle Walter's resurrection. I remember being at his funeral and seeing him in the open casket and being on his farm near Biggsville, Illinois (sounds like something out of a comic book) and marveling at the horse and buggy in the barn. Mayber his "resurrection" came from the inane conversations people make at the "visitation" praising the embalmers for making him look so "natural" and "almost like he is just sleeping."
@ Roger...You have a better memory than me. I don't remember the farm or the funeral. Biggsville does sound like a comic book city. I'll have to remember that.
Mime: I had to laugh at your last sentence...and now I have to go find out what bunnies have to do with Easter, because I don't know either.
Silly. Bunnies are an excuse for chocolate, which is what makes Easter a real holiday.

This--" She smiled the trying-to-be-nice-when-you-want-to-yell smile and said I must be mistaken. I gave her my not-backing-down-because-I-am-right look I had mastered from dealing with two older brothers."--was perfect.