Easter Memories

Hard boiled eggs meant Easter to me when I was a young child. On the Saturday before Easter we would get the bottle of red cochineal dye or old tea, dye our eggs and sometimes even paint them. Back in the fifties I had never heard of an Easter basket let alone the Easter Bunny. What we received was what we called an Easter baggie. First, mum and dad started with a brown paper bag and in it placed an apple and an orange a small Cadbury’s chocolate egg, a hard boiled egg, a hot cross bun, some jelly beans and a larger hollow chocolate egg which usually contained chocolate buttons. To this day I can smell the combined aroma of fruit, eggs and chocolate. Relatives often joined us on Easter Sunday and of course my sister Ray and I would receive a large chocolate egg from them also. I remember that Easter and Christmas were the two celebrations when growing up that I could eat as much chocolate as I wanted. This was actually a wise decision of my parents because I got sick one year and learned the hard way! From then on it was chocolate in moderation – a good life lesson.

On Easter Day after church we would go up to The Den to “roll our eggs.” This lovely woodland was about a half mile walk up the road from our house and because of the terrain this area was a popular place for people to go for picnics. As you walked into the Den down a wide tree lined path it opened out into an almost amphitheater area with a central flat grassy area which had many large boulder in some parts. This spot was surrounded by hills most of the way around and in one corner ran a small stream and was a perfect area for a picnic and to roll eggs but it tended to be crowded so we walked further in and along a narrow path to an area of ruined houses. It was a bit of a hike but worth it because the grass in this area was lush, green and soft – a perfect place to sit for a picnic. Many years ago there had been about four houses here and although they were now in ruins daffodils and primroses were always blooming in abundance. The old broken down chimneys and gable ends of the houses were a safe haven for birds to build their nests and song thrushes and cooing doves could be heard. If by chance it was a warm day you could climb down a little hill and paddle in the “burn” rippling over the smooth stony river bed. One Easter we found a large flat stone slab with a big iron ring attached but we could not lift it. We thought that we may return one day and try to dig around it and find out what lay beneath but we never did find it again. That was the central point of a story that daddy used to tell us years later about two young girls finding lost treasure.

Back home again we would partake of a delicious Easter dinner with Aunt Jean, Uncle Jimmy, cousin Betty and, when we were young, also Grandad and Uncle Tom. This was the meal, along with Christmas day that mum would put out the white damask tablecloth and the food and settings on the table would be a delight to look at. Still to this day I enjoy making Easter dinner for friends and relatives. When we left Scotland for New Zealand in 1974 we took our tradition of Easter baggies and rolling our eggs with us. In 1980 we went to live in USA and enjoyed one Easter having daddy and my sister Ray join us. I also remember once looking for a patch of grass amongst the snow so that we could roll our eggs. It was in the USA that I met the Easter Bunny and all the commercialism of Easter baskets etc and as the years progress it is harder to find a card that does not have a bunny on it. While living and working at a boarding school in New England I met some students that said that they missed being with family and having egg hunts and gathering as a family. In 1993 I started the New Cottage Easter Egg hunt since Easter was such a special time in my childhood. After hunting for eggs the students came back to our apartment for tea and scones. When we welcomed our first grandchild I invested in a Bunny outfit and we had so much fun. This tradition of hunting for eggs continued until we retired in 2018.

Our grandchildren are now learning the Scottish tradition of Easter baggies and the story of rolling their hard boiled eggs. In March 2018 we were back in Scotland for Easter and our son and granddaughter joined us. It was lovely to be able to buy real hot cross buns with pastry crosses and made of spiced bread with real peel and raisins – just like when I was a child. I had brought over some Easter treats from USA, and purchased the apple and orange but staying in a hotel I did not have the capabilities to make our hard boiled eggs. This really made me sad as it was so much part of my Easter memories. Easter morning we went to the little church where we used to go as children and I took advantage of the steps!! When the service was coming to a close the Pastor announced that the youth group had been busy the day before and had gifts to give everyone. Hard boiled eggs!!! We went back to my sister-in-law’s farm that we were now to be staying at and hunted for eggs on a cold Scottish day. We rolled our eggs on the slope outside the cow shed. A perfect ending.

We were told as little children that rolling our eggs symbolized the rolling away of the stone from Jesus’s tomb. Eggs also represented new life.
I looked at those eggs which were created with great love and as I reflected on my Easter’s past and present I realized that it was not the chocolate or baskets of toys or bunnies that Easter was about it was and will always be all about love.
Mark 16:1-5 Very early in the morning, on the first day of the week, they came to the tomb when the sun had risen.  And they were saying among themselves, “Who will roll away the stone from the door of the tomb for us?”  But when they looked up, they saw that the stone had been rolled away – for it was very large.
Love Heather