Good Friday
My most memorable Easter does not revolve around eggs or bunnies. It doesn’t even revolve around Jesus, a tomb, or church. It does, however, center on a show of sacrificial love. It was my freshman year in college. I had decided to attend a school across state lines but only about an hour and a half away from home. I had been one of the big fish in a small pond at my high school, so I was ready to be a little minnow in the sea for my college years. The school was large enough for that to be the case while still being close enough to home to visit when I missed family and needed to feel important and seen.
In my inaugural year away, I had made a few trips home, but I decided to stay in the dorms for Easter weekend. I assumed I would not be the only one. I realized that things felt different on that Good Friday. It wasn’t just quiet, but eerily so. I didn’t internalize just how lonely that silence felt until I received a call from the front desk that a package had been left for me downstairs. I took the elevator down, and when the door opened I only saw the front desk staff person and a big Easter basket sitting on the counter waiting for me. Who had left this for me? And where were they?
I took the basket back up to my dorm room and began to open the eggs inside. Of course, I should have known who would have made sure I received an Easter basket. She had played Easter Bunny all my life, after all. I immediately called my mom (thank goodness cell phones were a thing by then). I asked how she managed to have the basket delivered to me. She said she had made the trip to Georgia to drop it off but didn’t want to intrude on my college life, so she just dropped it and left. She was still in town to go to a grocery store that we didn’t have back home to buy a specific snack my dad loved. Y’all, I’m crying just writing this. This woman decided to use her holiday off from work to make a 3-hour round trip to secretly drop off a gift for me and to make a special trip to purchase a treat for my dad to make sure we felt loved this holiday. She didn’t even wait around to get a hug and smile from me, even though that was probably what she would have valued most as a return demonstration of love and appreciation for herself.
When I heard my mom’s voice on that phone call it dawned on me how lonely I felt being in the dorms seemingly by myself and how much I wanted to be with my family. I asked if she could swing by and pick me up after running her errand and before heading home. Of course, she was delighted to do so. (My college roommate was from the same small town and was able to bring me back.) I got to spend that Easter weekend with my family and was reminded what sacrifice looks like. It can be as big as a crucifixion, but now that I’m a mom, I have greater appreciation for sacrifices as small as a trip to drop off a gift without waiting around for a hug, kiss, and acknowledgment of thanks.
I would love to hear your most memorable Easter story in the comments! Does it involve a parent and/or a sacrifice? Bonus points for both!
