The Golen Egg

 I was raised in a Catholic family, and going to church on holy days wasn't enough to show God my love for him. No, it meant every Sunday as well. It meant walking around with ashes on my forehead on Ash Wednesday and giving up something I liked, like my bike or penny candy. One year, I gave up yelling at my sisters, which was the most significant sacrifice a guy could make. A week before Easter, we attended the annual egg hunt as a family in the town park, a perfect place to hide eggs. Some were hidden so well that they were only found once a park employee came upon one or two during his branch trimming duties. I remember one easter hunt when I was seven years of age, and as usual, all pumped up and ready to run and beat out Billy for the golden egg. He was the school bully and looked for any excuse to cause bodily harm to anybody who even looked at him. You could see where he became the way he was just by looking at his dad. Billy was a spitting image of him and just as annoying. He'd yell out loudly that nobody better get that golden egg unless they wanted a good lashing with a stick. He picked up off the ground, waving it around, laughing a sinister kind of laugh that gave everybody goosebumps. My dad looked down at me, smiling and saying I should ignore Billy and have fun. The horn sounded, and a hundred screaming kids ran forward, scooping up eggs hidden in the trees, under bushes, on picnic tables, and underneath closed barbeque grills. Every so often, a scream could be heard as evidence of a numbered egg being found, which meant a cash prize awaited you at the judge's stand.

Last year, my sister found a numbered egg and won a ten-dollar bill. Now, that was something. As the younger kids filled their baskets with eggs that were not so hard to find, the older kids were still very much on the hunt for the elusive golden egg. We knew it wouldn't be in plain sight but hidden somewhere that only one kid would dare to look. Someplace that could be dangerous, but probably not. I had a plan this year and decided it was the right time to put it into play. I distanced myself from everybody else except Bully Billy, who seemed to be following me. I knew he couldn't keep up with me as he had a dozen cupcakes before the hunt began. On a scouting mission yesterday, I rode my bike all around the park, looking for the perfect hiding place for the golden egg. I visualized many different places it could be hidden, but none compared to the one place nobody would think to look—nobody but me. I saw it clear as day and wondered how many other kids came to the same conclusion as I did. Turns out they didn't. On the morning of the race, hundreds of people gathered around, waiting for the time clock to ring eight and the start of the race. There were balloons for the little ones and tables set with hot cocoa from the church ladies. A Lifesize Rabbitt had its picture taken so every mom could hang it on the wall to look back on for years to come. Nobody saw the large egg the size of a football the rabbit had tucked under his arm except me as he moved through the crowds. The time clock went off, and hundreds of kids ran to find their bounty of candy, but I set out in a different direction, hoping Billy bully would spot me and try to keep up.

I circled back to the judge's table and asked the giant rabbit, who was actually the park's groundskeeper, to stand up. How did you know, kid? I told him a football is more rounded, and what he was carrying was more of an egg shape. That's the golden egg, I shouted, and the groundskeeper smiled and handed me the five pounds of heavenly milk chocolate I had worked so hard to find. Billy Bully finally made it back only to see me having my picture taken by the town's newspaper reporter, which made him mad. Billy yelled, " Give me that egg; I deserve it more than you, " he said, reaching for the egg, but his dad stepped in and pulled his son away. No words were spoken, but Billy's dad was teaching his son a valuable lesson, one he needed to learn himself. I was proud of myself that day and proud of the way I was raised. I knew right from wrong and gave others a chance to change for the better. I miss my youth in many ways, but those annual egg hunts remain fresh in my memories, probably because I framed the wrapper from the golden egg and proudly framed and displayed it on the wall going upstairs.

Mike 2024