I love Easter. It’s one of my favorite holidays. What’s not to like? Their are endless combinations of spirituality, re-birth, the newness of the spring plants, family, friends, food, and beautiful weather. Many of you don’t celebrate Easter, but do celebrate Passover, Holi, or simply enjoy Spring Break. I am sure that these celebrations are just as meaningful to you as Easter is to me!
Yesterday I started thinking about the Easter traditions in my family. When I was young, my parents would hide brightly colored eggs around the house, and we would all wake up WAY too early and find them. They also hid baskets filled with goodies, toys, and clothes. My brothers LOVED looking for and finding their baskets. Me?
It was the worst. Mainly because I’m horrible at finding things. I would spend, what seemed like days, looking for my basket. Long after my brothers had already found their baskets, and devoured the treats, I would still be looking. My parents tried to help, or so they thought. Dad would compose little limericks, or carefully worded haiku’s, or recite lyrics from a pop song or nursery rhyme – thinking that would help. But I was too dumb to figure out his stupid clues. My family still talks about my epic failure at finding the coveted baskets. Apparently they had a completely different Easter experience than I did.
After the hunt for the non-existent basket, we would get all dolled up in our new clothes and go to church. We would listen to music, and hear talks about Jesus of Nazareth, his suffering, and resurrection. I would leave the meetings inspired to more fully commit myself to following the teachings of Jesus. I still love this part of Easter. I especially love the theme of newness of life. Each of us can find ways to let go of our old self, and find ways to be a little kinder, a little more understanding of others, or a little more dedicated to our family.
After church we went to Grandma’s house for dinner, and . . . more basket finding. Grandpa was much more sympathetic to my plight. He would let me look for about twenty minutes, then just point at where the basket is.
My wife’s family has an fun tradition of rolling eggs. After dinner, everyone walks to a nearby park, and rolls their hard-boiled eggs down a hill with a parking lot at the bottom. The winner is the person who can roll their egg farthest down the hill, without it cracking, or hitting the concrete sidewalk. The seagulls loved the game too, because they got to eat the leftover demolished eggs.
As parents, my wife and I try to carry on some of our favorite traditions, and begin some of our own. You would think that I would completely abandon hiding baskets. NOPE – there I am every year giving lame clues to my own kids, and loving every second of it! (my kids are, thankfully, much smarter than I).
Do you have a favorite Easter, or Passover, or Spring-time tradition?
Share it – in the comments below. I’d love to hear about them!