The Stundist in Siberian Exile AND OTHER POEMS, William Fetler, 1922

urch banners, ikons, lanterns, burning torches. All join in singing a peculiar burial song about Joseph of Arimathea, who took from the cross the body of Jesus. This song is sung only once a year, on this occasion, and the melody is wonderful. I knew people who could not hear it without tears. Then the body of Christ is carried inside the church and put in the sepulchre, surrounded with roses and white lilies, which fill the place with exquisite aroma. No more services or singing take place in the church. The people silently worship the Holy Sepulchre. “ Children, keep quiet to-day,” says mother at home ; “ the Lord is in the tomb.” “ Can any one dare to speak if He is quiet ? ” was the thought expressed by someone during those days. I read in my story-book a sermon 7 98 MEMORIES OF MY CHILDHOOD on Good Friday by one of the great saints, which corresponded very much with our feelings on that day. He went out to the people and said : “ Brethren, what shall I say ? Our Lord and our Saviour is in the tomb ! Let us weep and pray ! ” On Great Saturday morning my mother used to get up before the dawn, with the first church bell. I tried to be aw r ake at the same time, and to go with her long before breakfast to the church, bringing flowers for the Holy Sepulchre. I always thought of Mary Magdalene and other holy women who came “ early while it was yet dark unto the tomb,” bringing spices. It was such a delight to imitate them ! After the short visit to the church, everybody got busy. The rooms had to be put in perfect order, a large quantity of eggs must be coloured, and the Easter table arranged with all sorts of special Easter dainties. Everything was ready by noonday, when the priest usually came with the curate to sanctify the Easter table. Every one in the family reverently kissed his hand, and I remember myself always doing that with trembling. I thought of him not as an ordinary man, but as a very wonderful man, almost as holy as Christ Himself—and how could it be otherwise, if he was a mediator between us and God ? After the priest was gone, all the children had to go to bed, if they were to go to the midnight MEMORIES OF MY CHILDHOOD 99 Easter service, and certainly everybody wanted to go; even the little babies were carried, because nobody could afford to stay with them at home. We had to be in the church before midnight. We could see from a distance, already, how it was all shining with brilliant lights, from the steeple to the very base. Inside you could not recognize it for the same church. Black mourning garments of the priest were changed into golden robes, and so all the appearance of the church became bright and shining. The Easter procession begins strictly at mid¬ night. “ Christ is risen ! ” declares the priest. “ He is risen indeed ! ” answer all the people. The procession goes three times around the church and enters inside. The Holy Sepulchre