Easter Baskets

I woke up this morning to an Easter basket—my Easter basket, one just for me! (Thanks, E-Bunny)

I can’t remember ever receiving an Easter basket in my whole life. (I apologize to anyone who may have given me one and I don’t remember.)

My mother didn’t do Easter baskets. I didn’t do Easter baskets for my children. That was a conscious choice made by my husband and me. When our firstborn Jennifer had her first Easter (she was all of 3 or 4 months old) we bought her an Easter basket. Well, really it was a small plastic pail like you use in a sand box, full of candy and toys. That morning as we stood in the dark-paneled family room with red shag carpet, with Jennifer in her high chair and the tacky gift in our hands, we decided we did not want Easter to come from K-Mart. This is not what we wanted Easter to be for our children. We always had lots of Easter candy, and we dyed eggs and had an Easter egg hunt on Saturday, but Easter Sunday was about celebrating the Atonement and Resurrection of the Savior and Redeemer Jesus Christ.

Now, I do not judge nor fault those of you who give your children Easter baskets. It was so fun to get one! And it certainly is more in keeping with the spirit of Easter, of the great gift of salvation that was given, then, say, eating ham during Jewish Passover. But I can’t help but feel some sadness for the children of God who think Easter is just about bunnies and baskets.

“There would be no Christmas if there had not been Easter …the babe Jesus of Bethlehem would be but another baby without the redeeming Christ of Gethsemane and Calvary, and the triumphant fact of the Resurrection.
“Of all the victories in human history, none is so great, none so universal in its effect, so everlasting in its consequences as the victory of the crucified Lord who came forth in the Resurrection that first Easter morning.” --Gordon B. Hinckley

My mother didn’t do baskets, but every Easter we all got a whole new outfit, from our head to our toes. We went to the department store and got dresses and petticoats, socks and underwear, shoes, gloves and even hats. Is that a secular tradition? Does it smack of who has the bigger or better Easter bonnet? Maybe. But for me it made Easter feel special, something worth dressing up for, and reminded me of all things new. Somehow we were transformed into something better than we were.

Last night someone left roses on my doorstep. Did they know? Did they sense that this day about death and resurrection might be especially tender for me? Did they know how grateful I would feel this day for the gift of eternal life and for He who made all things possible?

Christ the Lord is risen today! Hallelujah!

My basket, and my heart, are full.