Easter Sunday

My Grandmother calls The City “Babylon” and when I first told her that I was moving here, years ago, she said that she’d pray for me (and reminded me to pray) because she was worried about my soul. The City being a den of heathens and all of their sin.

Well, Easter Sunday comes every year with splendor. I’d say that Easter here is a Faberge egg.

As Sug Avery says, “...Even sinners have song.”