Easter Egg Hunt

My Dearest Granddaughter,

I write this on the morning before Easter of 2016.  A soft rain is falling which is wonderful for our earth; but not for the many planned Easter Egg hunts taking place today.  I’m hoping God’s sunny rays will break through the low clouds opening up a warm, beautiful day.  That is my prayer.

The first Easter egg hunt your Dad went too was when he was three years old.  He and I had made a paper basket, filled it with Easter grass and he picked out his own clothes that morning.  It was cold, but sunny so his little baseball jacket and cap kept him warm.  Papa H and I stood with hundreds of other parents waiting for the official whistle to blow starting the hunt.

When it did, your father stepped out from our reach and ran ahead, immediately knocked down by a big kid.  The kid never stopped, but your dad did sitting down, crying and so sad.  In that heartbeat, our hearts broke as Papa scooped him up, set him on his feet and urged him on.  And he did; this time not getting run over by bigger kids.

The very wise organizers put eggs all over, under bushes, between outside tables and chairs; even between the branches of a pine tree.  Your dad found five eggs, each one held in his little hand and gently placed in the paper basket.  At the end, when all the eggs had been found, he was thrilled and he handed his basket to me with a huge smile on his face.

What joy we all felt!  And what a comfort for him, that his Dad was there to help him up when he fell down!  All of this made me aware of God’s presence in our lives and the many times He helps us up!  How special for us as Christians!

So, my sweet child, never forget that God’s hand is there to pick you up, wave you on and always there to hold you even in your saddest times.

I love you.

Mamie