Easter Sunday, March 31, 2013 | Of Colourful Eggs, Cousins, and the Joy of Celebrating New Beginnings

I have always found it rather amusing that Easter, one of the most important celebrations in Christianity, also involves convincing perfectly sensible people to decorate eggs and then hide them in places where other people must go looking for them. It is a curious combination of religious devotion and recreational detective work. On one hand, we celebrate the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, the triumph of life over death, and the promise of redemption. On the other, we gather around a collection of boiled eggs with coloured materials, discussing artistic decisions as though we have been commissioned to decorate the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Christianity has many beautiful traditions, but I must admit that this particular combination of solemn meaning and colourful mischief appeals greatly to me.

Today is Easter Sunday, March 31, 2013, and our household has been occupied with preparations for a little Easter egg hunt. Earlier, my cousins and I spent time colouring and decorating eggs, transforming their ordinary shells into cheerful little creations that will eventually become the objects of a rather enthusiastic search. Some turned out prettier than others, naturally. I have discovered that giving several people decorating materials does not guarantee artistic consistency. One person may approach the task with careful precision, while another seems perfectly satisfied with applying enough colour to ensure that the egg can be spotted from the opposite side of the room.

But that is part of the entertainment.

There is something wonderfully nostalgic about activities that allow us to behave like children regardless of how old we are becoming. We were simply sitting together, decorating eggs, laughing at our creations, and enjoying the anticipation of the hunt that would take place later. It was hardly an elaborate celebration, but I have always believed that family occasions are often most enjoyable when nobody feels particularly obliged to impress anyone. Give us a few eggs, some decorating materials, and the company of people we enjoy, and we can manufacture our own entertainment without requiring an impressive budget.

Looking at our colourful collection, I could not help admiring how much personality an ordinary egg could acquire. Until today, these were simply eggs, the sort one might encounter at breakfast without giving them a second thought. Now they had become miniature works of art, each decorated with its own peculiar arrangement of colours and patterns. Apparently, all it takes to transform something ordinary into an object worthy of photography is a little imagination and the collective enthusiasm of several cousins.

And photograph them we did.

I suppose that is another family tradition of ours. If something is worth doing, it is probably worth photographing, preferably several times and from different angles. We may forget where we placed our belongings or what we intended to accomplish earlier in the day, but give us a camera and suddenly we become extraordinarily dedicated archivists. Years from now, I imagine I will look back at these photographs and remember not only the decorated eggs but also the laughter and conversations that accompanied their creation.

Of course, Easter means far more to me than the activities we arrange to celebrate it.

As a Christian, I have grown up understanding Easter as a celebration of Christ’s Resurrection and the hope that lies at the centre of our faith. It is a reminder of God’s love, the meaning of sacrifice, and the belief that death did not have the final word. After the solemn observances of Holy Week, Easter Sunday brings a different atmosphere, one marked by rejoicing, thanksgiving, and the recognition of a promise fulfilled.

There is something beautiful about that contrast.

During Holy Week, we remember suffering, sacrifice, and the events leading to Christ’s Crucifixion. Easter invites us to consider what followed. The story does not end at the Cross or the sealed tomb. Instead, we celebrate the Resurrection and the assurance that God’s purposes extend beyond what human beings can immediately understand.

Perhaps that is why Easter has always carried such a meaningful message for me.

It reminds me that faith is not concerned exclusively with asking God for help during difficult circumstances. It also involves learning to recognise reasons for gratitude, appreciating the people and opportunities we have been given, and allowing our beliefs to influence how we treat others.

And sometimes, those reminders arrive during the most ordinary family activities.

I find it rather charming that the egg has become such a familiar symbol of Easter. In Christian traditions, eggs have often been associated with new life and the Resurrection. A plain shell conceals the possibility of life within, making it a fitting symbol for a celebration centred on renewal and hope. The custom of decorating eggs has developed in different forms across cultures, and today it has become a particularly enjoyable activity for families.

Naturally, I doubt my cousins and I were conducting a detailed theological discussion while colouring ours. We were probably far more concerned with making them look attractive and ensuring that nobody accidentally ruined somebody else’s masterpiece.

Still, I like the thought that a playful tradition can carry a meaning beyond the activity itself.

There is something appealing about celebrating faith through moments of family togetherness. We attend church, offer prayers, and reflect on the religious significance of the occasion, but we also gather, share food, enjoy conversations, and create memories with the people around us. These ordinary expressions of joy are not separate from the celebration. In their own way, they become part of how we experience it.

I think family occasions are especially meaningful because they remind us how quickly time passes.

One year, we are children eagerly participating in games arranged by older relatives. Before long, we find ourselves helping prepare the activities, arranging the decorations, and laughing at the enthusiasm of younger family members. The traditions remain familiar, but our roles gradually change.

There is something rather amusing about realising that we are becoming the people responsible for organising the fun.

When did that happen?

I distinctly remember being young enough to consider hunting for hidden treats a perfectly serious occupation. Now I am old enough to participate in the preparations, admire the finished decorations, and contemplate whether we have made the eggs sufficiently difficult to find.

Although I must admit that hiding them too well could become a problem.

There is a fine distinction between organising an entertaining Easter egg hunt and accidentally establishing a permanent archaeological mystery somewhere around the house.

I hope we remember where everything is placed.

For now, however, the decorating is finished, the photographs have been taken, and our little collection of colourful eggs is ready for the next part of the celebration. The hunt will begin later, and I am rather looking forward to seeing how the afternoon unfolds.

I suspect there will be laughter, a little competitive enthusiasm, and possibly somebody claiming that another person has received an unfair advantage.

Such things are practically inevitable whenever relatives participate in a game.

But whatever happens, I am grateful for the opportunity to spend Easter with my family.

I have been thinking lately about how easily we overlook the ordinary privileges of being together. We become occupied with our studies, careers, responsibilities, and plans for the future. We imagine that memorable occasions must involve elaborate celebrations or extraordinary destinations. Yet some of the moments we eventually treasure most are remarkably simple.

A family gathering. A shared meal. An afternoon spent decorating eggs. Somebody laughing at a design that did not turn out quite as intended.

There is no need for anything particularly grand.

Perhaps the value of such moments becomes clearer when we recognise that childhood traditions cannot always be repeated in exactly the same circumstances. People grow older, responsibilities change, and family members eventually find themselves occupied with different commitments. The activities may remain possible, but the combination of people, place, and time belongs to that particular occasion.

That is why I enjoy preserving these little memories.

Someday, I may discover these photographs in an old folder and wonder why I took so many pictures of decorated eggs. Perhaps I will laugh at our artistic efforts, question some of our colour combinations, and remember the excitement of preparing for the hunt.

But I hope I will also remember how pleasant it felt to spend an ordinary Easter Sunday with my cousins.

I hope I remember the comfortable atmosphere of being with family, the cheerful little preparations, and the happiness of having something simple to look forward to.

And above all, I hope I remember the reason we were celebrating.

Christ is risen.

Those three words carry the significance of Easter far beyond coloured eggs and familiar traditions. For Christians, they express a belief in hope, redemption, and the victory of life over death. They remind us of God’s faithfulness and the importance of allowing gratitude to become more than something we express only when circumstances are favourable.

I cannot claim that every Easter will look exactly like this one. Perhaps future celebrations will involve different places, new traditions, or family members who are no longer quite as interested in decorating eggs. Perhaps I will eventually become the relative responsible for reminding everybody where the decorations are stored.

A rather alarming prospect, considering my occasional difficulty remembering where I place ordinary household items.

But for today, I am perfectly content.

The eggs are decorated, my cousins have provided excellent company, and we still have an Easter egg hunt to enjoy.

I began the afternoon wondering how we might make a collection of ordinary eggs look interesting. Now, looking at our cheerful little creations, I find myself thinking about how much enjoyment can come from something so uncomplicated.

Few colourful eggs may not seem particularly important in the grand arrangement of life.

But years from now, I suspect the eggs themselves will be long forgotten, while the memory of the people who decorated them will remain.

And that, I think, is a lovely reason to keep taking photographs.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have an egg hunt to prepare for.

May the best detective win.

Christ has risen! Happy Easter, everyone!

From a colourful Easter Sunday in Cebu, with gratitude for faith, family, and the little traditions that make ordinary celebrations memorable.

— Just Anj