Sunday, April 8, 2012

30 Days, 30 Stories: Mitch and the Meaning of Easter


Mitch and the Meaning of Easter
by Lori Bulloch

The drive to Grandma's house seemed twice as long on Easter morning. Mitch kept squirming in his seat, feeling squished between the baby's car seat and a cooler full of food. He would have rather been in the back seat by his sister, Maggie.

As soon as Dad put the car in park, Mitch unbuckled, hurdled the cooler, and opened the sliding door. The spring sunshine felt so good! He stretched his arms and legs.

Grandma saw his family coming and met them at the door with hugs and kisses.

Mitch didn't waste any time, “When do we hunt for Easter eggs?”

Grandma smiled and told him, “This year, I'd like you to hide the eggs for the younger cousins. Uncle Jim just called to say they're on their way, so you'd better start right now!”

She handed him the heavy box full of plastic eggs. As he walked, he could hear the surprises shaking around inside.

The rest of his family waited in the house while Mitch found a good hiding place for each egg. He put some in the grass for the little cousins and others in places he hoped would be impossible for the older ones to find. As soon as he heard car doors slamming in the driveway, he shoved the last egg under Grandpa's lawn mower and ran inside.

The kids were grabbing from Grandma's basket collection and running out the back door.

“Woah, woah, wait a minute!!” Grandma laughed. “I want to give you some instructions first.
Each basket has a colored ribbon on it. Try to find five eggs that match your ribbon. Then find me and
we'll talk about what's inside. Oh, one more thing. Mitch, I'd like you to team up with Maggie. Help her
a little, but don't make it too easy...”

Everyone rushed out of the room leaving only Mitch and Maggie. They were twins and best
friends (usually). Maggie was always fun to play with and sweet to everyone and definitely the
smartest kid in their class. Her blindness was the only reason they stuck together today.

Mitch held out his arm and Maggie quickly linked hers in and said, “Let the hunt begin!”

It didn't take long to find the first pink egg. Mitch popped it open expecting candy, but a fuzzy yellow baby chick popped out. Maggie stuck out her hand and giggled when she felt the fluff. “It's a toy chick! How cute!”

Just as Mitch opened his mouth to complain, Maggie said, “I bet Grandma put Easter symbols in all of the eggs for us.”

They moved on and found more eggs under bushes, on the porch swing, and under the curled up garden hose. Mitch steered Maggie around the “impossible” eggs and noticed that they all matched his oldest cousin's ribbon. He liked hiding Easter eggs!

Soon, their basket held their baby chick, a package of seeds, a plastic caterpillar, mini rose bud blossoms, and a folded postcard picture of a sunrise. They were excited to be the first egg-hunters to go
inside.

Grandma was waiting with another hug for each of them. “Well done, you two!” She started counting, “Did you find all five pink eggs?”

“Good. Now as soon as you can tell me what each item represents, you'll get a basket full of candy, too.”

Maggie had all the answers. She'd been thinking as she and Mitch walked around the yard. Mitch and Grandma both listened as she described them: new life breaking out of its shell, seeds of faith growing from darkness to light, a creature changing into something beautiful and free, a heart opening, and the chance Jesus gave us to try again every day.

Mitch was quiet. Suddenly, getting candy didn't matter.

Grandma's tears slipped down her cheeks as she touched Maggie's arm, “You may not be able to see with your eyes, but your heart sees so much. Right now, I can feel Easter.”

5 comments:

Mel said...

Thanks for this! Sweet.

BeautyFul said...

Beautiful! Thanks for sharing. Just what I needed.

SALTZWORKS said...

So beautiful.. brought tears to the eyes. Precious.

Celesta said...

Nice Easter story. I like Grandma's "your heart sees so much." My children will enjoy this.

Julie Daines said...

Lovely. Thanks for this.