Signs of Spring

Jane Ranzman Writer

Walking down Columbus Avenue in NYC, I passed storefronts and restaurants that were once my “old haunts.” But my hangouts were gone. A chain store remained. Or an abandoned space. I felt bittersweet sadness. There was hardly a remnant of my galavanting youth. I crossed the street and got a coffee in Starbucks. When I came out, I spied a small tree with bare branches. Pastel Easter eggs and bunnies were hanging from its tenuous limbs. A sign said “Happy Spring.” It had been right in front of me. I didn’t see it.

In my sadness, I saw there was redemption concealed.

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Easter Egg Hunt

Jane Ranzman Writer

How this Jewish girl has always loved Easter. Jelly beans. Chocolate eggs wrapped in multi-colored tinsel. Marshmallow bunnies. Bonnets with birds and flowers. Pink suits and matching pumps. And last, Sunday brunch. Yes, Sunday was the perfect day to riseĀ from the dead. Tuesday or Wednesday, just wouldn’t have been appropriate.