A can of twirls

During the 40 days of Lent we collected sweets, lollipops, chocolate, bars and biscuits from my grandmother and neighbours.  Kitkats were graciously accepted from my grandmother and hidden away so as to avoid temptation; biscuits were politely declined and jelly beans were pocketed to be secreted in the infamous tin.

Those of iron will power might open this can of sweet temptation and count their spoils for Easter Sunday.

The weeks limped by and most of us realised that we could manage just fine without the sugary nourishment of confectionary.  Despite this, when Easter Sunday arrived and we had attended Mass, the lid of the tin was peeled back and we dipped into the treasure that had accumulated over the last few weeks.

Lent is a time when several people give their New Year's resolution another whirl.  It's a time when they might shake the dust off of their gym membership card and vow to give up cigarettes or other guilty vices.  Every year in the run-up to Easter many people undertake Lenten vows to purge and cleanse their souls as well as their bodies; some abstain from chocolate and sweet stuff, like my father, and others perhaps beer.

When we were young we would collect sweets over the weeks and stow them away.  My older brother had the idea of using an old baby food tin.  I come from a large family by present standards and so there was always a younger sibling devouring baby food by the crate load.  This meant there was no shortage of tins to be recycled or used as we saw fit.

During the 40 days of Lent we collected sweets, lollipops, chocolate, bars and biscuits from my grandmother and neighbours.  Kitkats were graciously accepted from my grandmother and hidden away so as to avoid temptation; biscuits were politely declined and jelly beans were pocketed to be secreted in the infamous tin.

Those of iron will power might open this can of sweet temptation and count their spoils for Easter Sunday.

The weeks limped by and most of us realised that we could manage just fine without the sugary nourishment of confectionery.  Despite this, when Easter Sunday arrived and we had attended Mass, the lid of the tin was peeled back and we dipped into the treasure that had accumulated over the last few weeks.

Before breakfast was consumed something was snared from the tin and devoured.  Often, the first item ingested was quickly chewed and swallowed with little time being spared to savour the taste.  The second piece of chocolate would taste strange and you might wonder why you ever ate so much of this but shortly after the cravings return with a vengeance and that guilty stomach ache you suffered Sunday evening coupled with a sugar crash are soon but a distant memory.