“Easter for us meant above all egg cones, shorts and knee socks, but despite the upcoming roller skating and badminton game, it always reminded us of those exemplary people from Nazareth, a small village in southern Galilee, whom grandmothers bring to us almost in person and always in a wonderful way knew." – Klaus Merz
When writers, journalists, pastors and theologians tell personal Easter stories, then this festival becomes tangible, readable and narratable. The equally human and Christian movements between suffering and hope gain contours in their stories. Then, when a granddaughter suddenly stands in her deceased grandmother's garden again, or when two boys unexpectedly step over the edge of life and look at a quiet rabbit instead of a living one. Or when, after a quarrel between a young couple, the question is asked: "Isn't love like an empty tomb? A blind spot that shines all the brighter. A gamble. Are you in? Kiss, L."
This is how these stories about Easter become a ball dance. Not because they complicate everything unnecessarily, but because they deliberately circle the core of Easter and try to understand it for today.