Easter Tree

The world may be slowly dying outside our window from an invisible threat, but some traditions endure -- our Charlie Brown Easter Tree is born again. The forsythia branches this year came from someone's yard waste pile up the street. We're going to dearly miss our annual rendezvous with the Reids, but I plan to gather the family around this humble tree on Sunday morning and belt out "Low in the Grave He Lay"-- which my sister and I always just called the "He Arose Song":

Up from the grave he arose;
with a mighty triumph o'er his foes;
he arose a victor from the dark domain,
and he lives forever, with his saints to reign.
He arose! He arose! Hallelujah! Christ arose!