5: The Last Easter Egg

5: The Last Easter Egg

From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Best Mom Ever!

The Last Easter Egg

When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.

~Sophia Loren

My parents and I were in Florida during my dad’s spring break from teaching middle school. It was the first Easter we had ever spent away from home. As an anxious four-year-old, I had asked my mom several times if the Easter Bunny would be able to find us. She assured me there would be eggs — and that the Easter Bunny would fully understand why we didn’t leave him any carrots.

On Easter morning, my parents and I discovered that the Easter Bunny had visited overnight and left eggs on the hotel’s main lawn for all the kids. As we walked toward the group of adults and kids waiting for instructions, I began sizing up the competition. All of the kids were much bigger than me. It wasn’t looking good.

“I will get an egg, right?” I asked my mom.

“Yes, of course,” she replied, with a confident smile.

The resort staff member in charge of the hunt explained that when she yelled “Go” the hunt would begin, and all Easter eggs were fair game. I nervously clutched the handle of the plastic seashell bucket that was now serving as my Easter basket. My heart began racing as I watched some of the other kids crouch into a sprinter’s pose in anticipation of the start.

“Get ready!” the staff member yelled. “We are starting in 3… 2… 1… GO!”

Kids darted across the lawn, running from palm tree to palm tree looking for the plastic Easter eggs filled with candy. I sprinted to the closest tree but did not find any eggs. My dad waved me on encouragingly as my mom walked behind me.

I ran to a nearby sandpit hoping there would be an egg hidden there. But there wasn’t. I looked across the lawn and saw the other kids triumphantly holding up their plastic eggs and knew my chance of finding even one egg was diminishing by the second.

Just then my mom pointed out a palm tree across the lawn. “Look! There’s one!”

A shiny blue plastic egg was resting on the ground against the base of the tree. I looked up at my mom in excitement. However, instead of grinning back at me, she was staring to the left, in the direction of another mom, whose son was plucking candy out of an egg. The two moms were alternating between looking at one another and at what appeared to be the last Easter egg.

I had never seen my very petite mom run before that day. She had been born with weak knees, due to an issue with her ligaments, and when she was in elementary school she had worn special shoes to correct a foot problem.

As the stare-down continued, I set down my plastic bucket and took off toward the Easter egg. And then my mom whooshed past me — running in her Easter dress and sandals toward the palm tree and the shiny blue egg.

“Go, Mom!” I yelled.

The other mom also sprinted toward the shiny blue egg.

In one last burst of speed, my mother reached the trunk of the tree, bent down, and scooped up the egg.

“Yay! I got an egg!” I squealed in excitement, jumping up and down in celebration.

My mom, beaming from her victory, walked back toward me and handed me the shiny blue egg. I held it up triumphantly, like the other kids had done.

I’ve forgotten what kind of candy was inside that plastic egg. And I can’t remember what I did with that egg after our vacation ended. But I clearly remember my mom running as fast as she could toward that shiny blue egg. I remember the big smile on her face — a reflection of her love — as she handed me the last Easter egg.

~Anna Sofia Kendall

More stories from our partners