The Hunt for the Golden Egg

Ask any adult to close their eyes and recall memories of Easter as a child and their answers will be much the same. It's not the religion we remember with fondness, but the rest of the day. With promises of spring in the air and sugar-laced goodies in our baskets, we greeted the holiday as if it were "Christmas Morning, Warm-Weather Edition."

Sure, we all went to church wearing our big, frilly dresses and uncomfortable suits. The ladies wore big hats adorned with ribbons and flowers. But to many small children, the concept of Christ's resurrection was lost on us. A man who rises from the dead? Only magicians could do that. And since Jesus didn't have a television special like David Copperfield, we just couldn't relate to him as well.

Now, I think even by today's standards, my brother and I were pretty spoiled when it came to Easter basket contents. Not just mere candy would do, oh no! Jump ropes, match box cars, bats and balls, sidewalk chalk, kites - all of the supplies that a child needs to prepare for the impending nice weather were spilling out of that basket. The mountainous supply of candy didn't hurt either.

The favorite part of the day, however, happened after church at my aunt and uncle's house. It was the highlight of every child's Easter holiday, the Easter Egg Hunt! They had a big yard with lots of places for those pesky eggs to hide, despite their obnoxious bright colors. All around the above-ground pool, shrubs, trees and hills we ran in a quest to fill our pails with jingling eggs containing bits of silver for our piggybanks.

As nice as the neon orbs were, they could not compare with the star of the day, the Golden Egg. No, we didn't have any magic geese hanging around. We just had awesome relatives who loved all of us cousins equally. Therefore, we were only allowed one golden egg each. But one was enough...

The golden eggs didn't jingle; in fact they didn't make a sound. The others contained nickels, dimes and quarters; a nice little bit to have when the ice cream truck started to roll around a few weeks later. The golden egg, however, was silent because it always contained a crisp, clean five-dollar bill. It doesn't sound like much these days, but in the late 1970s that beautiful greenback was worth a trip to the toy store. Maybe it couldn't buy the most extravagant doll or the biggest RC car on the shelf. But guaranteed, you were going to walk out with a pretty good prize in your bag.

After all the golden eggs were found, we would gather around our respective parents and count up our loot. Then it would be time to sit down to a ham dinner with all the trimmings and get back to the business at hand. Yes, all of us children would bow our heads properly as grace was said. We would "amen" and thank Jesus for what he had done for us, even if we didn't understand it. In the back of our minds though, we were really thanking Jesus for sending that bunny our way. Also, we were thankful that the bunny had such an affinity for shiny, golden eggs.

Yes, just like Christmas, Easter gets a little lost in the commercialism of it all. But the memories of my Easter Sundays are times spent with extended family; a family that is now spread all over the country. We've each taken a piece of those memories with us and are passing the same traditions down to our children. In a time when it seems like family values are falling by the wayside, I don't really think that's such a bad thing. Do you?