Easter Joys

There’s nothing more delightful than to hear my Dutch husband – 60 years old, mind you – calling out from downstairs on Easter morning, “The Easter Bunny was here!” From the sound of his voice I know he’s excited. Sure, there’s a basket for him on the dining room table, but I know that it is the decorated table itself that has made him so happy.

I am fascinated by how family customs are so different. When we were kids, my sisters and I loved Easter morning. We opened our sleepy eyes to crinkly cellophane-covered baskets stuffed to the brim with goodies, sitting on the dresser next to our beds; a spirited egg hunt at home after church; and an Easter dinner fit for a king. Until I met my husband, I never knew what an Easter table was. For H and his siblings, the surprise of Easter morning began with a beautifully set table filled with platters of meats, cheeses and breads, soft-boiled eggs in fanciful egg cups, orange juice and a pot of tea, all dressed out on an heirloom yellow tablecloth. Small candies decorated the table; a small chocolate-filled Easter basket awaited each child.

Keeping these memories in mind, I have tried to meld both of our family traditions into our own. The week before Easter I begin gathering supplies, hiding them in closets my husband rarely frequents. I iron his aunt’s hand-embroidered tablecloth, wash my mother’s china, fill H’s basket, and dust off the few Easter things we have collected together. On Easter morning I get up early – making the excuse, when asked, that P the cat is calling for his breakfast, as if H really believes that – and head downstairs to set the table. An hour later I hear a shout of surprise and a lot of laughter. And, of course, we both pretend like we don’t know how any of this happened. It’s a terrific way to begin a joyful day.

I hope your Easter was just as wonderful!