Southern Diva

This photo is funny because as I was told, I was afraid of the Easter bunny at the mall. So much so that I refused to be photographed with him as made evidence of my staredown.

Growing up in a southern religious household, Easter was a big holiday. It would begin with our special Easter service at church, often including a special skirt about the resurrection. I would wear a new (and itchy) dress complete with frilly socks and shoes with a shine so bright you could use them as a mirror. Once church service was over, we’d head home and change clothes; “play” for me, and comfortable cooking clothes for my mother. My family was close-knit, so a few hours after church family would start trickling in, often with a dish to contribute.

The menu often included the typical southern staples: fried chicken, collard greens, cornbread, baked macaroni and cheese, string beans (for the kids who didn’t eat greens), and hot dogs and/or burgers (mainly for the children). Sweet tea, sodas, juices, and adult “dranks” concealed in brown paper bags were also there wet your whistle as the elders say. Because it was Easter, deviled eggs, assorted egg, and rabbit-shaped sweets were also sprinkled on the dining room and end and coffee tables, respectively. An assortment of desserts rounded out the menu. Before dinner, however, there would be the much anticipated Easter egg hunt.

Once the family was assembled, a couple of the adults would hide the eggs in the front yard and along the side of the house. We would be instructed to wait inside with strict instructions not to peek outside the windows to spot where any eggs were hidden. Once, we got the green light, my cousins and I darted to and fro across the yard filling our baskets with as many plastic eggs filled with sweets. The sounds of our feet stomping on the ground and our screams and squeals were the soundtrack of a good time being had. The egg we all coveted the most was the golden egg, ironically always covered in silver aluminum foil. We didn’t care about the semantics, we wanted the prize encased inside money! Five, ten, or twenty dollars to a kid felt like winning the lottery!

When the games subsided it was time to eat. The family would gather around the kitchen and dining rooms joining hands to bless the food with the blessing often being led by an elder. Once we said grace, we’d begin our formation for the food: young children, elders, older children then adults.

The rest of the evening commenced with fellowship. The adults would organically break off somehow ending resulting in the women socializing inside while the men took their assemblage outdoors. The kids, reveling in their limited supervision, enjoyed themselves playing both in and outside.

This tradition of Easter gathering would go on for years, eventually waning as the children got older and moved away for school and later marriage, making it harder to gather as we once did. Now many of the adults are grandparents, their children once running through the yard in search of the golden egg, now facilitating hunts for their own children. While Easter may not look the same as it did in our childhoods, the tradition of creating long-lasting memories is being carried on just the same.