An Adult Easter Egg Hunt

Easter egg hunts are fun. It is fun to prepare the eggs. It is fun to buy the candy. It is fun to hide the goodies. The most fun is watching the children find the eggs. Sometimes an Easter egg hunt is highlighted by a visit from the Easter Bunny. The Easter Bunny and I have a history.

I arrived as the “new pastor” at a church near the end of the year. They had a long tradition of having a party at church for the children that featured a visit from Santa Claus. My first controversial decision as pastor was to ban Santa from the party. Please understand that I like Santa. My parents told us, as children, to expect a visit from Santa. With five kids I am sure it was an attempt on their part to impact our behavior for the good – the naughty and nice thing. My younger sister claimed to believe in Santa almost into her teens. She didn’t really believe but we older brothers and sisters threatened her with great bodily harm if she admitted she no longer believed because we knew that when she confessed what she knew we knew we would no longer be on the Santa gravy train.  As is true with most lies, it was about the money. I loved doing the Santa thing with my kids and grandchildren. Life most dads, I spent almost every Christmas eve up all night putting something together so Santa could get the credit the next morning. How dumb is that?

So, I like Santa. But I banned Santa from church just because our children are Santa-ed to death. That is about all they hear about from Halloween until Christmas. I don’t want to break any news to you but Christmas is not about Santa. It is about Jesus. My thought was; how about at least at church the children hear primarily about Jesus. Santa was banned and I was painted green and became the Grinch who stole Christmas. You would have thought I was a child abuser. It was ugly.

I tell you my Santa story because it is directly connected to the Easter Bunny. Obviously if that church did Santa they certainly did the Easter Bunny. Easter came early enough that year that I was still smarting from the emotional beating I had taken over Santa. So I didn’t dare say a word about the Easter Bunny showing up at the egg hunt. I may be dumb but I am not stupid. But that didn’t stop people from speculating that, if given a chance, it would ban EB. Sure enough the following Easter the bunny suit came up missing. I was never questioned about it but I suffered many silent greetings and harsh stares. The word around the church was I had destroyed the bunny suit. I vehemently denied the theft but nobody believed me. I’m not sure my wife even believed me. My loyal opposition (Every preacher is blessed with some loyal opposition.) purchased a new bunny costume which I only heard about but never saw. They carefully kept it hidden from me for almost twenty years.

At my final Elders’ meeting before departing the church, we were drinking coffee and sharing memories and funny stories. We had spent many wonderful years together. Sure enough the bunny suit story came up. After a few accusations and laughs one of my elders – a dear sweet lady – who had been with me all twenty years of my tenure with the church confided to the group that she was the one who had stolen the suit. I think she gave it away to the Presbyterians. I could not believe such a close, long-time friend had thrown me and left me under the bus all those years. I laughed till I cried.

I say all that to give some context. I love Easter egg hunts. But I learned something new this year. In my mind Easter egg hunts are for little children and consist of hiding and finding hard boiled eggs, plastic eggs filled with candy and money and Easter baskets filled with plastic “straw” and toys. But this past year I moved to Memphis; the farthest south I had ever lived. Living in Memphis has been a joy and an education. One of my new friends was telling of her family Easter traditions. They gather at the home place, share a meal and then have an Easter egg hunt. They have what I would consider a “normal” hunt for the children. But then they have a hunt for the adults. For the adults they hide little bottles of booze, the kind I have seen on airplanes, and the adults run around finding them. She didn’t say what happens next, but I have a good idea. My friend is a lovely, charming, well-educated, socially adept woman. But when she told me that story, two things did occur to me. First, she is from Alabama and second, somebody in that family just might be a redneck. I’m not accusing anyone of anything, but hiding liquor for an Easter egg hunt sounds just a tad “rednecky” to me.

So this Easter in addition to me wishing you a happy Easter, may I say, “Cheers”?

Copyright © 2014, William T. McConnell, All Rights Reserved