Easter Basket Turnover

I’ve loved Easter for as long as I can remember.  Our traditional Easter Sunday involved several things.  A new outfit for me- complete with white gloves, white patent Mary Janes, and a hat.  There were lilies for my mom, new suits for the guys, and a BIG lunch at my grandmother’s house after church. 

All of my aunts, uncles, and cousins were in attendance at the table.  After eating our fill of honey ham (Honey Baked had nothing on my grandmama), deviled eggs, homemade potato salad, congealed salad, fried green tomatoes, and anything else my grandmother had grown herself, we headed outside for the egg hunt.

All the men were in charge of hiding the eggs- real, never plastic, along with some special treasures.  The cousins, my brother, and I would grab our baskets and start the search.  Since my grandparents lived on a farm, there were set boundaries for the search area.  We’d still be looking to this day if those boundaries had been ignored. 

“On your mark, get set, go!”  Off we’d go alright- racing around trying to be the first to find one, to gather the most for bragging rights, and to find the biggest prize- the golden egg.  My grandfather would hide one golden egg, the finder of which won a monetary prize of $1.

We pretty quickly learned that even those of us not lucky enough to find the golden egg, would receive money. My grandfather would find other excuses to give each of us $1; first to find a green egg, best tree climber to find the egg hidden up high, best at helping someone younger find her eggs. He’d always think of a reason to bless us. By the time the hunt was over, we all had a basket full of colorful eggs, wrapped candy, and a crisp $1 bill.

Once the boys’ ties had been repositioned and the girls’ dresses had been fluffed, we’d sit on my grandparents’ front steps for the annual cousin photo.  After several tries at having everyone face the camera at the same time were found to be futile, our parents set us loose to enjoy our newly acquired treasures.  Easter baskets were turned over and the trading began. My brother loved the beautifully colored boiled eggs and I loved the candy so we were pretty good at the bargaining table.   Once the dust had settled, we went about the business of playing, laughing, and eating our newly acquired treats. 

Those Easter Sundays were something special for our family- for me.  The memories of the activities we enjoyed are only heightened by the memory of sitting beside my family at church.  Our baskets were full, but more than that – our hearts were full. 

I think about the reasons my grandfather came up with to give us money on those Easter Sundays, and it reminds me of how our Heavenly Father blesses us.  He doesn’t need a reason to do it, but He must take great joy in finding them.  If all the ways God has blessed me this year alone could fit into a basket, my basket would be full indeed. 

As I continue through this season of Lent and prepare for Easter, I want to think about my life- my heart- as an Easter basket.  I want to admire everything God has placed in my basket this year.  I want to remember every treasure God has allowed me to find.  I want to turn over that basket, see what falls out, and let it bless me all over again.