I remember Easter as being disappointing when I was young. My focus wasn’t on family or food. Jesus wasn’t the primary reason for this season. It was mostly just another opportunity for presents.
I’d get sidewalk chalk or a skateboard and a jump rope…but would be unable to play with these toys because there was always snow on the ground. Once, I got a cute little sleeveless sundress that I would freeze my ass off when I wore it to church. One year I wore a wide-brimmed white Easter hat. I’m actually not sure if I wore it or not, but it had its own drawer for years afterward–never worn again.
When I was a bit older, we would always have breakfast after Easter service at church.
The tradition of decorating hardboiled eggs began when I was a child and continues now with my children. The smell of vinegar at any time of the year brings me right back to this activity with my Grandma Is. Now we go to my mother-in-law’s house to craft our beauties. As we cover the table with newspaper and pour vinegar into coffee cups–the memories come flooding back. We used to only soak our eggs to achieve different shades of pink, green, yellow, and blue. Now the kids experiment with clear crayons, stickers, tie-dye, rainbow, and sparkly colored eggs. The copper egg holders for dipping have been replaced by purple plastic dipping spoons. Then, as now, we still dye and decorate the unlucky cracked eggs.
All the years growing up, I don’t ever think I actually believed in the Easter bunny. I do remember asking mom “hotter and colder” questions about the location of my expertly hidden basket. The basket usually contained candy, jellybeans, colored eggs, and several new outfits.
There was one year when I was in high school when I couldn’t find my basket. I actually gave up after hours of searching. Mom relented and told me to look in the garage. Without this huge clue, I would never have found my basket hidden in the trunk of her car!
Now as the mom, I don’t hide baskets anymore for my teenage children. I set out their baskets filled with treats and a couple of small gifts. But I do enjoy hiding plastic eggs around our 3-acre yard. Eggs filled with $1 and $5 bills are behind bushes, tucked between rocks, and rest in the crooks of trees. We do count the eggs and inevitably a few are hidden too well–only to be found months later, even years later. Sometimes the money inside is dry and fresh, other times the moldy bill looks as if it has been home or food for generations of worms.
I don’t know what the allure of cash is (well, I guess I do) …but it doesn’t seem like my kids ever experience the disappointment I did as a child. However, I did ask Kadon about this situation, and he said he was NOT happy the year he only got books and had to find joy in the candy. I don’t remember this. I guess the kids get to decide for themselves whether any holiday is fireworks or a BUST!