It was quarter past dawn, as he pondered the facets,
Of this feast day called Easter, and he couldn’t get past it.
All the Whos in their beds, though he wished they were caskets,
All the Whos still a-snooze when he packed up his basket,
Packed it up with their fried fish! Their chocolates! Their hymns!
Packed it up with their honey ham! Their repentance from sin!
Six thousand feet down! Where no one could return it,
He rode with his load where the fire would burn it.
“Pooh-pooh to the Whos!” he was devlishly humming.
“They’re finding out now that no Easter is coming!”
“They’re just waking up! I know just what they’ll do!”
“Their mouths will hang open a minute or two,
Then the Whos of the whole world will all cry Boo Hoo!”
“That’s a noise,” grinned the devil, “that I simply must hear!”
So he paused. And then satan put his hand to his ear.
And he did hear a sound rising up loud and clear.
At first it was soft, but it grew as he’d feared.
But the sound wasn’t sad! Why, this sound sounded merry!
It couldn’t be so! But it was merry! Very!
He stared down at the world, and the devil popped his eyes!
Then he shook! What he saw was a shocking surprise!
Every Who of the world, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without churches open at all!
He hadn’t stopped Easter from coming! It came!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!
And then satan, all sad, with his tail drooping low,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: “How could it be so?”
“It came without fish frys! All their churches closed, too!”
“It came without choirs! It came with empty pews!”
“It came without Confession to cleanse them of sins!”
“It came without parking lots filled to the brim!”
“It came even with governors taking license plates down,
Of any Who who attended a church service in town!”
“The Walmarts were open, but I made sure they’d decide,
That the Church is not essential, and that sacraments would be denied.”
And he puzzled six hours, ’til his puzzler was fried.
Then satan thought of something that wounded his pride.
“Maybe Easter,” he thought, “is a day I must hide.”
“For Christ is their victor, and they know He’s coming.”
“And the Saint Michael prayer through the decades is drumming,
Which means that my hourglass swiftly is running.”
“But alas! If there’s a next time, I’ll be even more cunning!”
And what happened then? Well… on earth the Whos rave,
That Christ is the victor who conquered the grave!
And they say He’ll return in the way He departed,
So there’s no longer a reason to be heavy-hearted.
Christ is risen! Allelujia! Come along to the feast!
For the Savior is merciful, and He’s defeated the beast!
– by Kaitlyn Clare Mason, for Easter 2020 (with help from Dr. Seuss)
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