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As I was going through posts from a year ago, I came across this funny story about Pierre’s first “Easter egg hunt” in America last year. It made me chuckle, so I thought I would post it again.
This year, in our new home in Spain, I don’t have any colored egg dye. I’ve also learned from experience that European brown eggs don’t dye as well as white American eggs! I also don’t have any bright-colored, plastic eggs to fill or chocolate eggs to hide in the garden.
Perhaps that’s not a bad thing. It allows us to keep our eyes on the true meaning of Easter—the death and resurrection of Jesus.
In the midst of our global crisis, I hope this Easter egg story can make you laugh and brighten up your day. We can all use that right now. 🙂
It’s also interesting to see the different Easter traditions in the U.S. and in France. So, put on your cultural awareness glasses!
Remembering . . . A Year Ago
April 22, 2019
It was Pierre’s first official “Easter egg hunt.” America seems to be the only place where you can experience these public cultural events in the local community.
In France and Morocco, I always managed to find some foil-covered, miniature, chocolate eggs to hide around the house or the yard. If we couldn’t find them in a store somewhere, I would often have some friends or family bring them over from the U.S. Another option was filling our large, bright-colored, plastic eggs that we had collected over the years with little local treats.
Hunting for Hard-Boiled Eggs
Every year in Morocco, I can remember going to the forest with several families after church for a picnic and an Easter Egg hunt—with real, color-dyed, hard-boiled eggs. The hunt was fun for the kids, but the adults were the only ones who would enjoy eating the eggs.
Of our four boys, I can only recall Timothee having an opportunity for a “real” Easter Egg hunt in America—with lots of kids running around, racing for the colorful egg prizes lying in the grass.
My other boys had been deprived of this American cultural experience—among many others!
His First Easter Egg Hunt!
In any case, a local friend in Pennsylvania told me to check out the town’s Easter egg hunt, so off we went. She warned me, “Get there early! They start on time, and it goes by very quickly!”
Pierre was so excited!
We arrived just a few minutes before the starting time. There were so many people, so we went to the nearest opening in the crowd. While waiting on the sideline with all of the other children, I gave Pierre instructions. The bell rang, and off the kids went!
I watched as Pierre scrambled and rounded up the plastic eggs in his cloth grocery bag. He seemed to beat all of the little kids which made me feel a bit guilty. He looked so big out there! Maybe he should leave some behind for the toddlers crawling on the ground, hoping to grab one little prize. Pierre ended up with an entire bag full of plastic eggs.
In a matter of 60 seconds, the hunt was over! It was truly the fastest race I had ever seen.
Disappointment
Pierre, along with all the other children, frantically began opening their plastic eggs. There wasn’t much in them—just a few cheap, plastic toys. The loot was somewhat disappointing.
Suddenly, Pierre and I noticed some “older” children—about his age— opening their eggs. They were filled with cool candy and fun prizes.
“That’s strange,” I thought to myself.
Oops!
I then noticed a large sign next to the grassy lawn where we were standing. It said, “0-3 years.”
As the crowd began to clear, I noticed the signs in the other grassy areas off in the near distance, “4-6 years” and “7 plus.” As a six-year-old, Pierre had obviously been in the wrong age group.
I explained it to Pierre, and he said, “Mommy, you didn’t know how to do it.”
I apologized and said to my disappointed child, “I’m sorry. You are right, Mommy didn’t know how to do it. This is my first time in about 20 years that I’ve been to a real Easter egg hunt.”
We walked to the car laughing, then we drove to the dollar store to buy a bag of foil-covered chocolate eggs to hide in the house. That is much easier, and we won’t be stealing all of the babies’ Easter eggs!
Easter “Pâques” in France
“Easter,” “Pâques,” in French means “Passover.”
In the U.S., the “Easter Bunny” traditionally delivers and hides the Easter eggs. When I tried to explain that to my children, I could not answer their curious questions about bunnies and eggs. Why not have an “Easter Chicken”?
In France, it’s not the “Easter Bunny,” but the “Flying Easter Bells” who bring the eggs to children on Easter morning. That doesn’t seem to make any more sense than the “Easter Bunny.”
I have to continually remind myself and my children: It’s not better; it’s not worse. It’s not right; it’s not wrong. It’s just different!
“The Catholic tradition dictates that church bells don’t ring between Good Friday, “Vendredi Saint,” and Easter Sunday, to commemorate the death of Christ and his resurrection. The oral tradition then said that the bells were flying to Rome during that time (they then grow 2 little wings and dress up with a lovely ribbon) to be blessed by the Pope, and then come back from this trip loaded with presents.”
Camille Chevalier-Karfis “French Today”
As a result of the “Flying Easter Bells,” “Les Cloches de Pâques,” one will typically give gifts of chocolate “bells,” rather than chocolate “bunnies.” Also, one will often see chocolate “hens” in France. Now, that makes sense!
The French also don’t eat the traditional American “Easter ham” for their Easter meal. Rather, they celebrate with omelets or a leg of lamb—representing the traditional “Passover Lamb.”
Click here for a delicious recipe for a leg of lamb, “gigot d’agneau.”
In the town of Bessières, “a steel fry pan four meters in diameter and weighing a ton is installed with a crane onto a bed of hot coals. The handle of the fry pan is simply a wooden pole. The quantity of ingredients is impressive: 15,000 eggs, twenty-five liters of oil, six kilos of seasoning, dozens of bunches of chives, hand chopped. It also takes a lot of elbow grease to prepare all that in time . . . and we don’t make an omelette without breaking any eggs . . . When all the eggs are beaten and poured into the gigantic fry pan, a dozen cooks armed with large wooden spoons stir the mixture.” The Local
The giant omelette is then cut and served to all who have come.
Now, that’s what I call a giant omelette and a community Easter meal!
—The Cultural Story-Weaver
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Let’s Weave Cultures!
How do you celebrate Easter in your country? What are your cultural traditions?
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