Being far away from family can be a drag…especially when one of those distant family members makes something delicious and shows you a vision of it in a digital photo or on a video call. Such a thing happened today when I saw a familiar braided loaf of sweet bread. Not to be denied, I decided to make my own…
Easter was a happy time for my young self, though I was made to wear what I considered an ugly dress to church. I liked to go outside at the end of the service and collect the flat, papery seed pods that fell from the trees near the walkway before the door. I enjoyed the thin wafer that melted in in my mouth and the moment we shook hands with the people around us and said, “Peace be with you.” I never thought too deeply about why a giant bunny rabbit was delivering a basket full of plastic eggs filled with sweet goodies on a bed of brightly colored confetti. I was just excited to get it. I was even more enthused about designing the hard boiled eggs…dipping them in dye and slipping them into decorated plastic sleeves. A Google search will reveal the pagan origins of the German goddess associated with fertility and spring who was represented by the very reproductive rabbit…and eggs are an obvious fertility association. As it often happens, one belief or practice merges with a new one and its origins become obscured.
As I got older I understood Mom and Dad were the Easter Bunny and more. I still found a delightful basket at the end of my bed in the morning, yet the feature was not chocolate eggs, but books I was anxious to read. Yes, I was a bookish kid. Honestly, things haven’t changed much. I still love Easter egg hunts…and playing on the swings, despite my larger body that takes more time to gain momentum.
I think we could all use an egg hunt sometimes. We too easily lose our childish sense of wonder. The objects of wonder might be different, but the feeling is the same.
The ingredients are simple. Yeast, water, flour, butter, eggs, orange juice and zest, sugar, honey and salt.