For Christians the world over it is the holiday where we celebrate the resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ. People celebrate in different ways. Egg decorating and Easter egg hunts. New hats to accessorize a dress. A family meal. Church attendance.
When I was a youngster (and rode a dinosaur to school) we often travelled to the south side of Chicago to celebrate with family. One highlight for us, besides being spoiled by 2 sets of grandparents and other adoring relatives, was an annual Easter basket hunt at the Krause house.
The Krause house was not huge but it overflowed with love, laughter, food and family. The downstairs flat of the Krause house contained a family of 5. A dad, a mom and 3 daughters including a set of twins. Neighbors and friends were always welcome and it seemed like someone was always coming or going.
Easter was a high holiday around the Krause house.
And the centerpiece of that holiday was the annual Easter basket hunt.
Everyone got a basket with his or her name on it. Much love went into the creation of the basket and even more thought went into the hiding place of the basket.
Younger family members might be given hints as to rooms in which their baskets were hidden.
There were no holds barred, however, when it came to hiding places for the adult baskets. I have NO IDEA what the contents of the adult baskets were because the basket hunts took place when I was a kid.
The reason I remember the hunts as well as I do is because even more care was given in the hiding of one person’s basket. My dad. The three young ladies, including the twin mischief makers, adored my father and exhibited this by making his basket the hardest to find.
Yes, that is how we show love in our family.
As I recall, my dear old dad was often the last one to find his basket.
Two special places his basket were hidden stand out in my mind.
One year his basket was wrapped in saran wrap and placed (somehow) in the tank of the toilet.
The other place was a heat duct. Please remember it is often cold in the south side of Chicago around Easter.
When it is cold people turn on their heat.
When the Beer Engineer finally located his basket some of his little bunnies had experienced a melt down in the literal sense.
I told you that the three sisters adored my dad, which is why such affection was showered upon him. Perhaps they were not the brightest bulbs on the tree but they meant well. I only say that because, at least until the publishing of this blog, all three subscribe to it. I sincerely hope they don’t give me up for adoption at this late date. After this I may need to find some new cousins. 🙂
I wouldn’t trade those memories. The laughter, the family time, the traditions.
I am a blessed grateful woman.