WEDNESDAY: Easter Egg Hunt


Copyright is held by the author.

THE COLOURED foil of the chocolate eggs caught the sun, sparking a million memories of previous Easter holidays. Clair had always enjoyed the long festive weekend. As a child, her family all got together at her grandmother’s. Her old redbrick countryside house was covered with crawling ivy and surrounded by a beautiful garden with twisting paths. A large expanse of lawn stretched out behind the house and beyond that, an enchanting forest.

As children they peaked into tree burrows, stuck their hands in between snaking plants, and lifted rocks and painted flowerpots, searching for eggs. The egg hunt always lasted quite a while. Her grandmother was excellent at hiding. She always found the perfect spots. Clair liked to believe she inherited the art of hiding from her grandmother.

Clair and her husband, Jake, had four beautiful children. They had planned to stop after two, but then the twins arrived. Having a family of six had its ups and downs, but she wouldn’t change it for the world. The children had finally reached the ages to have a proper unsupervised egg hunt. She wanted to share the nostalgia of her childhood Easter weekends with her family.

“What should we do for Easter weekend this year?” Jake asked, as if reading her thoughts.

“I was thinking we could go away. Just us and the kids.”

“Do you have anywhere specific in mind?”

“Somewhere with a lot of space and trees,” she said with a wide smile.


The house Jake had booked was perfect. The kids ran through the house playing tag. Clair stepped out onto the patio, overlooking a large lawn encircled with trees. It wasn’t as charming as her grandmother’s house, but it would do.

While Jake took the kids to buy groceries for the weekend, Clair set out with old shoes, a bucket of Easter eggs, and a smile. Joy filled her as she hid each egg. The garden didn’t have as many birdbaths, flowerpots, and flower beds as her grandmother’s garden, but she found more than enough nooks and crannies. She counted her blessings that she only had to hide eggs for four children and not fourteen. One in the nook of a low branch. One under a garden gnome. One between two large rocks. One between the leaves of a potted Basil plant.

After lunch, they sent the kids to search for the eggs. She poured Jake and her a glass of lemonade and they settled into the patio chairs. From their viewpoint they could see the kids running around, their laughter traveling towards the house.  

Clair was halfway with her glass when one by one the children made their way back to the house, out of breath and their baskets filled with colourful eggs. Jake frowned and glanced at his watch.

“Fifteen minutes,” he said. “Is it just me or are the kids getting better at this?”

“Or I’m losing my touch,” Clair laughed, drinking the last of her lemonade.

It seemed like she would have to up her game.


On Sunday Claire gathered all the children’s leftover eggs and placed them back in the basket. The children had been gentle with their eggs, the patterned foil was still intact. She was thankful, it meant they could go for another round of egg hunting.

“Are you hiding the eggs again, mom?” the oldest, Lila, asked.

“Make sure you hide them well, okay?” Hale said.

“I’ll try my best,” Clair answered with a smile.

She took the basket and set out on her mission. She thought of all the hiding places her grandmother had used as a child. One under a bush with tiny red berries. One near the fountain’s edge. One in the crevice of an old tree.

She didn’t want to get her hopes up but she was sure this time would be a bit more challenging.

Jake glanced at his watch. “So far so good.”

She flipped a page of her magazine. “Don’t jinx it.”

Several pages later Lila was running towards the house, trailed by her siblings.

“Better luck next time.” Jake winked at Clair.

She sighed, getting ready for the sugar rush that was about to possess the children.


On Monday morning after breakfast Clair let out a pleased sigh. The weekend away was just what they had needed.  

Lila skipped into the kitchen, a hopeful smile on her face.

“Mom, could you hide the eggs again?”

“Again?” Clair asked surprised.

“Yes, one last time. But this time please make it hard.”

Clair eyed the basket of chocolate eggs. Even after everyone had several over the weekend, there was still a fair amount left. They would leave in a few hours, so there was still time. She had one last idea. She took the basket of eggs. Her children’s bright eyes watched as she set out to hide them for the last time.


Clair sat on the patio chair, crossing her ankles, and taking a sip of her lemonade. Smiling to herself, she made sure to keep an eye on the time. She was on her second glass. Her grandmother would be proud of her initiative.

Jake took her hand and squeezed it. “You hid the Easter eggs well this time.”

Her mischievous smile made him raise a brow.

“Are you going to tell me where you hid them?”

She took a sip of her lemonade. “I didn’t hide them at all.”


Image of Felicia Change

Felicia Change graduated with a BA in Creative Writing and her work has appeared in the YOU magazine and Coffin Bell. When she isn’t carving stories of magic and mischief, she is travelling, exploring museums, or on the lookout for a dog to pet. You can find her @feliciachange on socials.