Easter —Do Memories Outweigh the Taste?

The former bakery across the street from my Grandparents on South Street Cowansville, Quebec- Photo Linda Seccaspina

Each Easter my Grandfather would walk across the street to the bakery on South Street in Cowansville and purchase a large chocolate rabbit for myself and a hen for my sister Robin. They had frosting trim, stood three feet tall, and were stored in bright colourful boxes full of enough shredded paper to start a good fire. What Grampy thought we were going to do with this amount of chocolate one only knows, but my Grandmother knew exactly what she was going to do with it.

Mary Louise Deller Knight was going to freeze what was left over like everything else that found its way into her kitchen. She was positive the the life span in her freezer was forever and fit whatever she could into the tiny overflowing compartment. Mary would take the half-eaten chocolate creatures outside to her personal tree stump and bash them to death with her trusty hammer much like she axed a frozen turkey in half each Thanksgiving. A few months later in July, she would make some delicious chocolate cake with the frozen leftovers for the annual Oyster Supper that my dad convened at Trinity Anglican Church. I never heard of anyone being sick with food poisoning at that dinner so I would like to think whatever Mary did with her leftovers was always within the health code.

Photo- Ville De Cowansville-– South Street-my Grandparents home was right next to the telephone booth and I can see the Dairy down on the right.

Not content with his parents giving his overweight daughter an Olympic size piece of chocolate my Father would hand me a traditional Laura Secord Egg bought at Varin’s Drugstore across the street. When that yellow box came out the family would ooh and awe much like it was a piece of Easter gold. To tell you the truth I never cared much for the taste and sometimes that Laura Secord egg was still hanging around in some drawer come summer. Today, I have a different sentiment about the Canadian treasure and I wonder why I disliked it so much. I guess it’s because nostalgia makes it a special memory that tells me a story about my childhood that I find comfort and joy in. No matter where you are when you celebrate a holiday it will forever trigger memories that are always going to be with you. I miss the days when life was simple.

Happy Holiday weekend!