Happy Easter from my favorite chick!
I remember one Easter when my nephews were small–they grabbed handfuls of cherry blossoms that had fallen from the trees in Nana and Papa’s yard. Jackson and Grant flung the pale pink petals in the air so they floated down to dust baby Jake’s head. We all laughed as the boys sang, “It’s snowing! It’s snowing!” while Jake squealed with joy. That’s been a dozen years ago and I still remember the sound of their laughter and the astonishment I felt at loving these small, new people so keenly.
Isn’t it holy to live in a moment and know that you will remember it for the rest of your life? Cherry blossoms remind me to look up. We are alive, beneath the cherry blossoms.
At least once in our lives, we all deserve to find the golden egg. Whatever it is for you–a place of peace, a true friend, a story to tell, a community, forgiveness, love, sobriety, calm, true north, delight–I hope you find the golden egg. If you don’t find it today, keep looking.
Back when I was the spinster aunt, I volunteered to orchestrate an egg hunt for the kids. The first year, when it was just Jackson, it was easy–we hid the same 12 eggs for an hour. Every time he toddled over with one, we’d sling it back in the grass as soon as he turned his back. He’d find it again with just as much delight as the first time.
One year, I did a hunt for Grant and Jake when their family invited me to the mountains for Easter weekend. Their mom asked me not to go crazy with the candy, so I filled their eggs with coins…they walked away with a low-fat, sugar free $50!
Once you own 200+ plastic eggs, you get to do the egg hunt every year. I love doing it. Nana and Papa have a magical yard (that comes from the “magic” of 25+ years of labor) filled with hidey holes, lush grass and blooming fruit trees. Every summer, Daddy tills up a couple of especially well-hidden eggs when he’s putting in the garden!
As the boys grew older, I decided that EVERYONE deserved to find a gold egg so I bought six. The rule is, you can only find ONE gold egg, even if you stumble on more than one. This tradition led to one of my favorite Easter stories a few years ago.
We had already done an easy hunt in the vegetable garden for the little kids. Then it was time for the five older kids to hunt in the backyard. The parents fanned out to hide the eggs and I hid five gold eggs in really hard to find places. The big kids tore through the yard, filling their baskets with loot. Jackson struck gold first. Then Grant. Then Victoria. Then Chase. The eggs were dwindling out and everyone had found a gold one except for Jake, the youngest of the older kids. We hunted and hunted and hunted. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember the fifth hiding place. Poor Jake seemed sad and left out and I hated that for him. I know what it’s like to be the youngest and I wanted him to find that gold egg.
I was searching in the azaleas behind the pump house in a vain attempt to find that stupid gold egg. Now, this next part will sound silly but some of you may understand. When I need a little supernatural boost, I sometimes call on Richard’s spirit (or my Grandmother Eunice or my Pop or any other who might be looking over my shoulder). So I mumbled under my breath, “Richard, I could use a little help finding this egg. Please?”
A couple of minutes later, Jake shouts, “I found it!!!” There he was, holding high a gold egg in a spot where I hadn’t hidden one. He was BEAMING! I was gobsmacked. Where had that egg come from???
Then Jackson and Chase sidled up with big grins on their preteen faces. Chase whispered, “We took one of our eggs and hid it so Jake could find it.”
I don’t remember if Nana and Papa ever found that fifth gold egg. I do know that we all found what we were looking for. Jake got his golden egg. Jackson and Chase got the chance to do a kindness. I got to see two sweet boys turn into generous young men.
Did you know that DuBose Heyward wrote the story behind “Porgy and Bess” 14 years before he wrote “The Country Bunny?”
Did anyone ever read this book to you? Someone who loved you very much and wanted you to believe you could be anything you want to be? Mrs. Carol Fowler read this book to me and I have never forgotten it. One afternoon a week, our class walked down to the library at Flint River Academy and filed in quietly. On top of the low shelves filled with children’s books, one book would be lying face down and near her chair–the book she had chosen for us. Oh, the excitement of that first peek!
We sat in a semi-circle on the thin carpet–back then we called it “indian style” instead of “criss cross apple sauce.” Mrs. Fowler wouldn’t say a word until we were all sitting down and paying attention. I can still remember the crackle of the plastic covers that she put on the books to protect their beautiful covers. She was magical–Mrs. Fowler could read upside down and knew exactly when to turn the page without even looking. Library time was the best hour of the week.
When I was in seventh grade, long after the days of story hour, I got to assist Mrs. Fowler in the library during my free period. As I straightened the books in the elementary section, I rediscovered “The Country Bunny and the Little Gold Shoes” and read it many times. When Mrs. Fowler had first held the book up for us to see, I was a little disappointed because the cover doesn’t look like much. The colors were too old-fashioned, some book my grandmother would pull out of a dusty box in the attic.
Oh, the story! A little brown bunny named Cottontail wants to be an Easter Bunny but no one believes in her. Those jobs go to the swift jack rabbits or the giant white bunnies. When Cottontail finds herself all grown up with 21 babies to chase after, her dream seems even further out of reach. But lo and behold, Cottontail’s experience as a mother translates into just the “skill set” that a busy Easter Bunny needs. She is selected and gets to live her dream, thanks to the help of her children and her own belief in her dream. Even when the job seems to be too much, she finds the strength to do the impossible…thanks to a pair of magic shoes.
When I was all grown up, I bought a copy of “The Country Bunny” for myself. One Easter, when my nephew, Grant, was about two and a half, I decided to share it with him. His dad was busy fixing something around our parents’ house and asked me to keep Grant out of the way. We snuggled into a comfy chair and I told him about this wonderful book that I had loved for so many years and how excited I was to share it with him. Papa was snoozing in the other chair. I opened the book, read the first page in breathless awe. Grant reached across my lap, closed the book and chirped “The End!” He slid off my lap and went off to find out what all the hammering was about. My dad STILL laughs about that moment! So much for that.
This is my favorite illustration from the book. Cottontail has one very special egg to deliver to a sick boy who lives atop a mountain. She is exhausted from her night’s work. There isn’t much night left–the pink dawn of Easter breaks behind the mountain. Cottontail doesn’t want to give up. She makes it…SPOILER ALERT!
I think I love this painting because I’ve felt this way so many times as a mother. You spend so much effort trying to get everything done, trying to make the magic happen and there doesn’t seem to be enough time. You’re worn out. You just need that little boost of magic. The night wasn’t long enough.
Go get this book and read it to yourself. Give yourself the same gift that Mrs. Fowler gave me all those years ago. I still appreciate it.
Our seasons have seemed so muddled up for the last few months. It’s 65 today but supposed to snow this weekend. This week it’s been rainy rainy rainy. I’m yearning for a pure spring day.