Note: In a month or so I have to teach a lesson at church for the Family History Committee on writing family stories or memories. In preparation for this I thought I would practice a little. This is a rough draft effort.
My parents always treated holidays with extra flair. And Easter was no exception. We colored eggs every year well into my teens. My older brother James was exceptionally artistically talented, so the egg coloring was his wheelhouse. The things he could do with a white Crayola crayon, a Paas decorating kit, and a dozen hard-boiled eggs were amazing. He made beautifully dyed eggs with floral scenes, Victorian designs, and silly messages. Jeff and I had fun with the dyed eggs too, but we mostly stuck with simple stripes and wavy lines.
When we were younger there was generally an egg hunt. My parents put chocolate, coins, and other small goodies in the eggs for us to find. They also hid the hard-boiled, dyed eggs (which we all loved to eat). We were pretty competitive about finding the eggs and would often re-do the hunt on our own as play. When we lived in Albuquerque we re-hid the eggs around the house, but one hard-boiled egg was left unfound until the smell led to it being found a week or so later up inside one of the green ceramic elephant side tables.
The last egg hunt I remember occurred the first Easter after moving to Mesa, Arizona. Easter Sunday was fairly late that year (1977), and the 90 degree heat of early summer had arrived. My parents hid the filled eggs all around the back yard in the morning before we went to church. The plan was to hold the egg hunt after church. Unfortunately, by the time we returned home mid-day, and found the eggs, all of the chocolate had melted inside them.
Easter clothes were another part of our holiday celebration. Each year I had a new Easter dress (some beautifully made by my sweet mom) and shoes to wear. A favorite Easter dress of mine was one with carrots across the front. Some years my parents took a snap shot of us before church in our Easter finery. Looking back at some of the photos is a funny review of 1970s and 80s fashions. Here are a few of my Easter pictures from growing up:
1975, In my favorite carrot dress.
1977, I loved this strawberry jumper my mom made.
I am grateful for the fun Easter memories my parents created for us. They worked hard to not only celebrate the day, but to teach us about the importance of the Savior and his Atonement. Their efforts are a main reason my testimony of the Savior continues to grow today.