Easter egg hunt teaches us important lessons

Easter was this past weekend, and the only thing I ever look forward to about Easter is the annual egg hunt! That is, I used to look forward to them. Until I turned 13 years old. But even now, at the ripe age of 20, I associate Easter with the egg hunts and Jesus (but mostly the egg hunts). This led me to consider all the ways that I as a person have been shaped by the Easter egg hunts I enjoyed as a child. So, here is a list I came up with.

 1) It’s candy if it’s colorful. Am I right? I am pretty sure I hated boiled eggs until my family and I started dying them. Then, suddenly, it was fun to have eggs, and I could eat ten in a row. That’s not disgusting, right? Long story short, when I was 10 I ate multi-colored eggs. Now that I am 20, I eat multi-colored gummy vitamins.

2) It’s a fight to the death...but everyone still wins. My cousins and I would gather on the green battlefield with one single purpose: victory. We would race each other to the pink egg we both spotted behind the lemon tree, and we’d snatch eggs right out of the youngest cousin’s hand. But in the end, we somehow all had full baskets. And I am pretty sure none of us cared that no one was a loser; all we care about was that our own baskets would be full. I think this is how college classes work, too. Maybe I am a nerd, but I like seeing if I can finish my homework and exams the fastest, and still manage to receive an A. I don’t really care what grades my peers get. So, even though I subconsciously view them as competitors in the exam room, in the end my own good grades are all I care about. Thank you, Mom and Dad, for training me for competitiveness in the egg hunts.

3) Colorful and plastic eggs are perfectly normal, but only if it’s Easter. Egg hunts have primed our minds to willingly believe that weird things are perfectly okay, because that’s what everyone else is doing. We can dress like bunnies and hop in the grass collecting eggs, because it is the societal norm. Oh, you didn’t wear a bunny costume? Awk-ward... But my point still remains, and I firmly believe that parents hosting egg hunts for kids is the central reason behind social phenomena such as parachute pants, rattails, the 1980s as a decade, having Furbies and Neopets as a hobby, and even “Cotton Eyed Joe.”

4) It’s okay to be a carnivore. Chocolate rabbits that make it delightful to chomp off the bunny ears, I firmly believe, are the reason that less kids are worried about eating furry animals. Okay, I don’t firmly believe that, but it’s an interesting concept, is it not? Children grow up watching cartoons and T.V. shows hosted by funny talking animals, but somehow the majority of them grow up to conscientiously eating the same animals that taught them how to spell “cow.”

5) Lastly, miracles are everywhere. Perhaps the most subliminal of all Easter egg hunt messages is that miracles are pervasive in everyday life. From an Easter bunny whom no one has ever seen leaving baskets full of chocolatey goodness in your house, to magically discovering that your backyard has turned into a secret garden filled with plastic egg treasures, the Easter egg hunt epitomizes the same spirit of miracles and wonder that characterizes the resurrection of Jesus - the real reason for this joyous season. Perhaps, because it is so subtle, this is the message least recognized during Easter. It’s easy to forget to look for the “eggs” in our lives, and non-celebrated days of the year can pass in mediocrity, because we refuse to keep our eyes open. Maybe if we viewed life the way we once did as a child on Easter, we’d find more miracles and treasures decorating our world than we claim is actually there.

So, with Easter come and gone, the majority of the Whitworth community is humming “The Final Countdown” and crossing days off their calendars until summer sneaks up on us. But I hope that we all can remember the lesson of Easter that is not as recognized as Christmas’ message, though equally important. You’ll find what you’re looking for, if you’d only open your eyes. So, look for miracles, and that is how you will find your prize.

 

Story by Rosie Brown Columnist

Graphic by Eva Kiviranta

Brown is a senior majoring in international business. Comments can be sent to rbrown13@my.whitworth.edu.

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