Easter has so many memories; first and foremost are of Grandmother Pearl. Every Easter she would make me a new dress and often would make a little coat to go along with it just in case it was too cool for the dress she made me that year.
Most of the dresses she made for me were of sheer organdy cloth, but some were of satin. There was always a colored slip with can cans to go with it. She thought I had to have new can cans so they would match the dress.
Most of the dresses she made for me as a child had a full skirt and at least one ruffle around the bottom and sometimes two. They were made from many yards of gathered material. The bodice was always fitted with little puffy sleeves with a very tiny little ruffle around the edge.
Grandmother always managed to find little stockings with a ruffle at the top to match my dress and she thought I was not dressed properly without a hat. After we moved away the new Easter clothes would arrive by mail and it was always exciting when the box came with my name on it.
When I was very small and spending my days with her we would color a dozen Easter eggs. She never bought a real kit to dye them with it, we used food coloring and I was convinced they were very pretty, even though they were just one color. Once they were all colored Grandpa would hide them for me all over the back yard and sometimes in the house.
When we moved away from Medicine Lodge where my Grandparents lived, Mom and I colored the eggs with the dye kits and I thought I was really living to have a store bought kit. We could draw with a wax pen on the egg and make designs that wouldn’t color.
Sometimes I would dip them in one color, then draw on them with the dye pen and then dip them into another color. Wow, what beautiful eggs I thought. Later they came out with the stickers and I really had fun with them.
Mom and Dad would spend the next week hiding them for me. Dad usually wanted to hide them in the house and that was okay with me as long as he hid them for me. My trusty side kick Old Brownie, my childhood dog, would help me hunt for them.
Dad never thought to put Brownie in the room with me when he was hiding the eggs and my crafty spy would watch where he put every one and managed to remember where they were. When Dad had them all hid he would come to the bedroom to tell me they were hidden and Brownie would be by his side.
I would pat old Brownie on the head, and whisper to him to find the eggs; he would then lead me to where they were. He would start with the first one that Dad had hidden. He walked to the spot it was hidden and pointed with his nose if it wasn’t easy to see.
If Dad put it under something he would keep touching the area until I realized he was pointing to it and pick it up and put it in my basket. It took my Dad a few times to realize that I was finding them faster than I should have and that I was having help from my little spy.
Once Dad figured out what was going on, Brownie was placed in the bedroom with me so he couldn’t watch were they were being hidden. But Brownie loved the hunt as much as I did and we would both look for them once they were all hidden.
When Brownie found one, he proudly came and got me and led me to it. It may have taken us a little longer, but he still found more of them than I did with his incredible nose.
Going to church was always the best part of Easter, I loved the Easter story that the teacher would tell us and until I was much older was really mystified about the whole thing. It was hard for me to comprehend the fact that he had risen from the dead and moved that huge rock by himself and gone to heaven.
But the story was fascinating to me. I didn’t like the story that was told the Sunday before about the crucifixion because it made me sad, but I always looked forward to the Easter story, it was a happy story.
When we arrived home after church, the Easter bunny had been there and left an Easter basket. He was as elusive as Santa, because he always left the basket when we were at church.
My Easter basket always contained a large chocolate bunny, and some of the large candy Easter eggs. None of the Easter eggs were wrapped then, and I would try to sneak a couple when Mom wasn’t looking while she was cooking lunch.
After a wonderful lunch of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans, and a pie of some sort, it was time for an afternoon of egg hunts. I looked forward to the final egg hunts, because then I could eat some of the hard boiled eggs.
With each hunt I would usually eat at least one. Why do the colored eggs always taste better than just regular hard boiled eggs?
My Easter memories are wonderful; the story of Easter, going to church, my new outfit made by Grandmother, and of course the Easter egg hunts with my trusty sidekick Brownie. To contact Sandy: email@example.com