My Childhood Easter

by Kim on April 5, 2012

For most Christian children, Easter is a day of church, wearing new spring apparel, followed by baskets of chocolates and colored eggs. It is also a day of hunting the eggs and gathering family together for an Easter feast. Our Easter was a little bit different than most.  My parents didn’t go to church (See previous post: Attending Church). When we were older and could attend church by ourselves, they dropped us off at Sunday school, and then returned home to watch the bunny drop our baskets and hide a few eggs. They would pick us up from church and then we all go to pick up Lil, my Mom’s best friend who didn’t drive.

Lil somehow turned an ordinary day into an occasion. She was a frequent visitor to our house – especially on Sundays. But when there was a holiday, it was an unspoken requirement that Lil be present. When my Mom was around her, Mom laughed more than usual and Lil was a willing audience for my Dad’s jokes. For me, my 3 sisters, and my brother,  Lil was what I imagine a grandmother to be (see My Grandmothers ). She doted on us, not with material things, but with attention and presence. She filled the empty spaces in our home.

I remember one Easter that we gathered the eggs hidden by the Easter bunny, only to hide them – and find them – over and over again. But we still weren’t finished with the game when it started raining. We then took the egg hunt inside. Our house was small and there really weren’t many good hiding places. My brother asked Lil if he could hide an egg in the top pocket of her shirt dress. Lil was rather buxom and the idea of hiding the egg at the bottom of the pocket tickled my mother to no end. We found every egg but one and looked for what seemed like hours for the last remaining egg. My younger sister sat on Lil’s lap, cuddled up, and asked her if she knew where the egg was. It was inches from my sister’s nose, hidden from view by Lil’s full figure. My mom laughed til she cried. My Dad added to the merriment when he made joking comments about Lil’s “medical condition”, noting that she really should get the lump checked out and that she might be “busted” for stealing eggs. We didn’t find out until after dinner that Lil was hiding the remaining egg.

The blessing of Lil was that she loved us continually and constantly while we were growing up. She was, perhaps as my Dad might have said, part of the bosom of our home.


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