I wanted something non-denominational for this Easter Sunday, and figured this Kelly Rae Roberts inspirational magnet fits the bill.
Unleash your joy
Embrace your truth
Pick more wild flowers
Collect moments of kindness
So, today, I learned something about Easter.
Last night, I saw so many Tweets about parents
Ya'll, I kid you not that until this morning, when several friends posted FB pictures of their kids finding the eggs, I didn't realize that parents actually hid Easter eggs around their own house for their kids to find on Easter morning.
I've never done an Easter egg hunt at my house. Ever. In fact, I don't think my parents have ever bought those plastic eggs. Besides that, a friend pointed that that it might be we do public hunts down here, that maybe it's just a Southern thing - that our hunts are generally held in parks or churches.
I wouldn't know, really - I mean, I can seriously count on one hand how many egg hunts I've been on. And that's counting taking my baby cousins to Central Park for their egg
It's crazy, I know. I mean, I always knew about the Easter baskets and I've had pictures taken with the Easter bunny, but I've never known about the morning egg hunts around the house.
For as long as I can remember, though, I've always been superjealous of kids with their Easter baskets and eggs and chocolate bunnies. Once when I was little, I made the mistake of asking why I didn't get a basket or candy.
Totally got the religious lecture about Easter, and that they would never understand the tradition of bunnies and candy, and that therefore, no, we would not have baskets or candy in our house. Ever. I was crushed.
One visit to the Philippines during Easter week proved how serious they take this holiday, with procession after procession, men carrying actual crosses in the streets and being whipped, men getting tied to crosses, a giant Judas being burned in effigy to the jeers of large crowds, kissing of someone's feet (note: I did not go to this, so I dunno if it was real feet, or a statue), novena after novena, stations after stations of the cross, mass after mass. After mass after mass.
It was non-stop.
So yeah, no basket or candy for me. Ever.
Poor little Catholic girl, I know.
Oiy. Thank goodness they never had a problem with Santa.
Update. Would you look at that. Still absolutely no remorse from my mommy for not giving me baskets and candy over the years.
Clarification. I should mention that it really was just my parents - there are plenty of lucky Filipino kids whose parents embraced the bunny and all his accouterments. Sigh. But this post notwithstanding, no, I'm not bitter at all.