Yesterday was the Christian celebration of Easter. This weekend was also the Jewish celebration of Passover. Two observances, one front our Old Testament and one from our New Testament, that are holy religious holidays practiced around the world. Millions of people hold these observances in the most utmost importance in their lives. Generations have been taught the meaning of these for centuries, albeit in different ways.
I can only speak from the standpoint of what I was taught and my experiences of the Easter observance. As a child, the TRUE meaning of the holiday was known. As a young child, the explanation of The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit can become very confusing. Trust me, sometimes, it can be confusing to adults as well. The days leading up to Easter Sunday were happy days. I knew what was coming in the sense that I was ready to open up that package of egg dye and “color some eggs.” Filling those cups with vinegar and water and then dropping those little pills in was literally some of the best entertainment. Hush, I was a bored little child.
My mother, at some point in the morning, would boil eggs and then take them outside and hide them around the base of bushes or where limbs branched out from the trunk. My job w to get them back into the house without breaking them. Tough job for a boy who was just waiting for the water to change color. Who cared about the egg?!
After the eggs were colored and breakfast was eaten, Dad would take the eggs outside, may ten or eleven in all, and hide them again. He would give parameters of the yard in which they lay. Dad was a tad more creative in his hiding. In trees. Under buckets. Inside the fenders or bumpers of the cars and trunks. It didn’t matter as long as we found them all. And find them we did!
Later in the day, my cousins would all converge on my grandparents’ house. With uncles and older male cousins there, more minds were put together to find better, creative places to hide eggs. There was a good sized pasture behind the house where we could run around and be crazy. It was good for many different things, like hiding eggs at Easter and flying kites. It was also where they cows grazed. So, where there are cows, there will also be cow patties. My older cousins would lift. Up patties that had been there for days or weeks and laughingly place and egg underneath. We learned that when you go hunting for eggs up there, you carried around a stick for patty flipping.
Those were the days!
After we all grew up, things of course changed. The egg hiding stopped and the family stopped getting together as much. We became teenagers and things just weren’t as cool anymore. Not only that, we had to start learning the true meaning of the holiday. Good Friday no longer was a day we got out of school. Something happened on that day that changed our lives in a much deeper way than anything else possibly could. Personally, that made the day not just great, but also holy in all senses of the word. Easter Sunday became more than just a childish event of hiding colored eggs. It became a day of life. It became a day when all my family and friends meant even more to me than they ever had. It became a day of thankfulness that my life was being lived because someone else had given theirs.
No matter what you think of this post, that’s the way it was. No, that’s the way it is and will continue to be. After seeing the joy in the face of our neighbor’s child, I can look back on the wonders of childhood and the soon to come learning of the greatest and most meaningful event in history. And, the candy was really good too!