Easter weekend. It brings a lot of memories. When I was growing up my great grandparents, John and Dorothy Scudgins took my sister and me to church. Though my grandparents and parents didn’t go much that I can remember, my uncle Steve also took us sometimes. When we lived too far away from Papa and Granny Scudgins or Unka, we walked or rode the church bus.
Being raised Baptist was like breathing, it was second nature…kind of like biscuits and gravy, old trucks, and Football.
My favorite memories are my Papa Johnny Scudgins leading my sister and me along during the egg hunts and how we would smile when we found the “big” scores, those with a quarter—or even a whole dollar—inside the purple, pink, blue or green plastic ones. He would get a twinkle in his brown eyes and when it was time to go home, slip a five dollar bill in my hand.
Later I found Easter to be a good thing when my kids were little, or even when they were older. I laughed until I cried when Wesley, a nearly six-foot-tall junior in high school tackled his younger sister and brother in the back yard to get the eggs. They all laughed and rolled on the ground, my pre-teen and teenagers.
Today I think this holiday has lost some of its magic, that which I had as a child or when my kids were growing up. I’m also a bit more jaded, less willing to trust some institutions or ideals I once had so much faith in.
However, one thing remains. No matter if one celebrates Easter for the resurrection of Christ, the bunny and eggs, or doesn’t celebrate it at all–there is one truth I hold onto.
Love is a universal language and it’s the easiest way to communicate with someone we don’t understand.
Love yourself, love others.
No matter how you celebrate or believe, I hope you can hold on to that one universal truth: love.
It’s the one truth that ties all of us as human beings together instead of tearing us apart.