Egg Hunts in a Crowded City
Bright staining dye on boiled eggshells was a yearly constant in my childhood. Real, true, stinky hard boiled eggs hidden in big open green spaces with the townspeoples’ blessing. The neighbor’s yard, the empty lot, the meadow at the bottom of the street.
Bringing this tradition to Madrid has been one of my favorite annual activities. Jeni and I host it together each year with 200 candy-filled plastic eggs. The plastic shells are one of a few variations that help our event fit into a busy and crowded city.
This year we scoped out a place in the park near our house and started spamming our friends and neighbors about this annual search. Then it started to rain. The days before the hunt were cloudy, and the night before the event it downpoured. Jeni and I took turns starting out from the terrace of our 4th story apartment, delaying the inevitable cancellation.
“It’s not gonna happen babe”. My anxious need to be over prepared had kicked in. With the weather problems and the good bit of unfinished prep we had to do, I was already mentally preparing the cancellation messages. Fortunately Jeni has a higher tolerance for uncertainty than I do and she convinced me to wait out the rain and give the event one last chance.
The day of the event we went to explore the park where the egg hunt was scheduled to take place. The original plot was too wet to use, but there was a sand court for footvolley where the ground was dry enough to sit, relax, and hide 200 eggs. We pass the friend group that plays there weekly in times of good weather and we always wish we could be part of that cool looking crew. We hid the eggs on all sides of the court, confident that one way or another we would be able to use this plot of land.
With the eggs hidden, we started telling families in the park about the event that was about to happen and I went to grab a table from church. As I returned, I saw Jeni talking to another Mom. She was part of the footvolley crew and she was kind of mad that we were in her zone. Jeni finished talking to her before I arrived and had worked out a compromise for the area we both intended to use. We would finally be united with the footvolley community, although throughout the event our sharing of the area was a little tense.
The footvolley started at 5pm that day and our group arrived in spurts up until 5:30. We gathered up the kids and warned the players that we would need a few minutes of time for the kids to search for eggs without risking a soccer ball to the head. We sent the kids out for a fun filled search and they ran all around gathering candy filled treasures.
The combination of social circles at the egg hunt turned out to be beautiful. One of the girls from the footvolley families had started a one day friendship with the daughter of one of my old coworkers. Church boys had brought their school friends and they scoured the grass together in hunting mode. A couple of retired ladies from our apartment complex had come and were happily watching the young ones run and snacking on homemade cake. All of our family was there with us, munching on various snacks and helping us take care of our little baby.
After the childish thrill of searching for hidden plastic, we gathered everyone up to offer a connection to Jesus’ resurrection. We gave out prizes for eggs corresponding with 12 symbols from an Easter tool called “Resurrection Eggs. I love the simple and non threatening tradition of this Good News sharing that we are doing each Easter in the center of the city. It has become a worshipful re-creation of one of my favorite childhood traditions. Many of the families in the city are familiar with the symbols of Easter we use to tell our message and the parents and kids join in to aid the explanation as we show various tiny figurines.
After the short message, many of our friends decided to stick around and enjoy the park - a sign that the weather really had turned out nice enough to enjoy. Jeni took the baby home and I made the rounds to say goodbyes to all our invited guests and the athletic group we had shared our space with. I do wonder if that kind but somewhat tense sharing of property could lead to true friendships in the future. And I love knowing we shared a small bit of our faith aloud with those who were willing to listen.
Are there traditions from your childhood that would be a blessing to the people in the area you are serving now? Are you open to hosting social events that allow chances to share Christ with others? I challenge you to explore that possibly uncomfortable but definitely valuable opportunity.
