Wednesday, April 9, 2003
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Wednesday, April 9, 2003 |
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Reflection on Easter memories By JOHN HATCHER Note: We were distressed to learn Tuesday that Dr. Hatcher took a fall at the church Monday night and sustained serious damage to his knee. At press time Tuesday, he spoke to us from Fayette Community Hospital where he was awaiting word on surgery, possibly Wednesday. We sincerely wish him a speedy recovery and are reprinting one of his Easter columns from a past issue.
I'm leaving it to all my colleagues to say the profound and wonderful things about next week, the week that changed the world. And about the significance of what the world calls Easter and we call Resurrection Sunday. So, just let me reflect on Easter memories. The earliest: the neighborhood kids (I was four years old at the time) had been invited to an Easter Egg Hunt. Mama took me and two of my sisters since we were in the "hunting" age range. Mama told me that I came home from the hunt very disturbed and disappointed because they didn't have any "rooster" eggs. All they had was candy eggs. To me Easter was not Easter without real eggs. Later, we learned about the necessity of Easter Egg baskets with their artificial grass on which to lay your treasured finds. Well, we just didn't have the money to buy artificial turf so I went out in the yard and pulled up sprigs of grass and put them in the basket. It was not as cool as the real artificial thing. But a boy has to do what a boy has to do. One Easter Egg Hunt was not enough for my two younger sisters and me. After hiding the eggs outside and finding them, we would re-hide them in the house oh, say five or six times. Hide and find. Sounds stupid now, but it was fun then. We always kept count to make sure that we had found all the eggs. Once, we hid one egg so well that it was not discovered several weeks later when a trail of odor led us to it. Often, my extended family would join together for an Easter Egg hunt on the beautiful grounds of my cousin in Phenix City, Ala. After finding the eggs, rooster and candy, we all sat around eating the boiled eggs and saltine crackers, washing them down with a Coca-Cola. My Dad loved to eat eggs in that fashion. The church conducted an Easter Egg hunt one year. Parents were on ready to make sure their children found their fair share. My Dad was no different. He would spot one and dispatch me to secure it. I mean, what father is worth his salt if he doesn't help his son or daughter find eggs. By the way, Daddy like salt and pepper on his boiled eggs with saltines with a Coca-Cola. In the old days of the mostly mythical Easter Parades, church folks tried best we could to come up with a new dress, new suit, new tie, new shoes, and certainly when women had batter taste, a new hat (just my personal opinion which I know is not politically correct). Mama and Daddy had bought me a light colored Palm Beach Suit. I clearly remember the label though I was just 10 years old. It was the most beautiful suit I had ever seen. I felt like a million dollars as I wore it. It's been now 43 years since, and I still carry regret that after that wonderful Easter when I wore that Palm Beach suit that I was never able to wear it again. I grew bigger. Such a beautiful suit, but I was growing so fast. Sad! Now, just maybe a little sermon. Just maybe there are some things that we truly have outgrown and need to leave the land of regret. After all, Easter is all about Resurrection, not reflection!
John Hatcher is pastor of Outreach International Center 1091 South Jeff Davis Drive Fayetteville, Georgia 30215 770-719-0303 |
