Dear Ken, Betty, and all the grandchildren:
I’ve never been good at these technological thingamagigs, but your mother says to me, she says: “Better send them an e-mail card ’cause they only peak in their mail box once a week,” and she means the box outside your house, not Outlook’s. But I’m all thumbs when it comes to the ‘puter — back in my day, machines had “on” and “off” buttons; I can’t even turn up an oven now. I says to Mom, “Why don’t you do it?” but she gives me this look like she’s just seen a skunk in the garden.
So it’s up to me. Knock on wood, here goes: We made it to Budapest smack-dab on Easter, which means Mom’s dream came true. You know how she’s been pining to get back to the old country, bless her. “Everybody wants to be in Budapest on Easter!” That’s what she always says. Of course, it goes without saying that we poked around for a church, it being Easter, but we met all these kids. They were actually dancing and singing like they meant it! I mean, these people were happy — rejoicing over the resurrection and everything. Mom videoed the whole thing before she began jigging herself. I thought she’d throw her hip out. And then Uncle Ted sent us an e-mail postcard from their Australia trip. They found a church where the kids pranced like they’d just read Psalm 150:
Praise the LORD;
Praise God in his sanctuary;
Praise him in his mighty heavens.
Praise him for his acts of power;
Praise him for his surpassing greatness.
Praise him with the sounding of the trumpet,
Praise him with the harp and lyre,
Praise him with timbrel and dancing,
Praise him with the strings and pipe,
Praise him with the clash of cymbals,
Praise him with resounding cymbals.
Let everything that has breath praise the LORD.
Praise the LORD.
So here’s the video from Budapest, followed by Uncle Ted’s – if I can only find that send button!