Campfire Stories: Easter & Food for the Soul (see below)

Easter celebration is over, but I wanted to take a moment to reflect on it. Growing up on a small farm with a large dairy, a few horses, chickens, and pigs in western Oklahoma meant much of my learning was through experiences and observations. Take for example this horse in the photo. Dosen’t take a genius to figure its best days are probably over.

Didn’t take long in childhood to recognize what was called Easter was a special week. After all, when else did one color eggs and hunt them? Learned it meant making sure best clothes were clean. Even had once-a-year new shirt or shoes. Excitement was obvious. Even had a good wash behind the ears. Church was packed. Lots of women and girls wore colorful bonnets. Music was at its best, and the preacher seemed on fire! Afterwards, Mom’s food seemed extra yummy, and she had a special dessert. … But, what was the special week and Sunday all about? Little by little, learning came.


Campfire Story:


The church was having dinner-on-the-grounds after services, and a young husband entered the church kitchen to deliver his wife’s delicious food to the ladies preparing for the feast. He noticed a small plate of great-looking deviled eggs. “Looks yummy!”

A petite, senior lady’s head shot up and a huge smile spread across her face. “They are mine,” she replied with a joyous tone like she had just won the baking contest and blue ribbon at the fair. “I brought them.”

“Hope some will still be on the food table when I go by,” he replied with a hungry grin on his face, “but doubt it as we have visitors go through the line first.”


“Well,” she responded as she pointed to a corner in the kitchen, “Set aside a couple.”


“Can’t do that,” he commented in a ‘wish I could’ tone. “Wouldn’t be fair.”


Soon, everyone was enjoying the tasty foods. The petite lady walked up behind the now seated young man and whispered, “I saved you a couple of my eggs,” and set a small plate with two egg halves beside his plate.


Their words and actions raised a few eyebrows at the table, and an embarrassing blush filled his face. “You shouldn’t have…”

It was obvious the elderly lady was going to stand just back of him until he took a bite. He really liked deviled eggs, so he did. A big one! Almost the full half went into his mouth! Immediately, his body slammed on the brakes! It wanted to respond in a negative reaction, and would yell an alram if it could. "What are you doing to me?" He strained to keep from barfing! His hand with a napkin shot to his mouth as he turned his face quickly away from the lady, and quietly spewed the eggs chunks into it. “That was… terrific,” he expressed with a choking sound. Quickly, he gulped his water, Everyone at the table restrained chuckles. She beamed in delight, but didn’t walk away until he (pretended) to gulp down the other half.


Once she was out of hearing distance, the table erupted in snickers and laugher. One person asked, “What was that all about?”


He glanced around to make sure the little lady was no where near. “I said I loved deviled eggs earlier to her in the kitchen, and she insisted I put a couple back so the others couldn’t get them. … You saw the rest. Those eggs tasted like they had some type of cleaner in them!” He paused and glance around again. “She must have accidently picked up the wrong thing to put in them.”

Whatever was in the eggs, word rapidly spread to beware as looks did not equal great tasting food. Similar events took place between the petite lady and young man at the next several church dinners. In those, though, he purposely avoided her. Sometimes even hiding until everyone was seated and eating, including the petite lady. Sort of like a church version of Hide and Go Seek! … So, he never confirmed if her bad tasting eggs was a one time event or she just made terrible tasting ones.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

From experiences like the misleading images of her deviled eggs, I’ve come to realize the word, Easter, is a poor substitute for the real meaning: the Resurrection of Jesus.


I’ve also had misleading ideas of the looks of the cruicified Christ. Long time ago while in graduate school, I made extra money by sketching charcoal drawings of individuals. Walked by a student on the university sidewalk, stopped, and asked if I could make a sketch of him. Never had seen the guy before, and probably scared him by my bluntness! ... Mentioned the reason: He looked like what my vision of what the Christ would look like right before the crucifiction. He agreed, and we carefully placed a thorny crown on his head. Interesting I never saw him again, but I still have the drawing.

Over the years, I’ve learned the look of the drawing is very misleading like those eggs were. The descriptions of how Jesus was whipped and the number of lashes would have resulted in an extreme disfigurement. The face would have been dirty from sweat and blood, and badly swollen. The hair matted and covered with blood and dirt. The crown of thorns larger, more pronounced, with blood running down the face. And, even this description likely doesn’t give justice to reality.


The drawing now sits on a window sill in my office. Reminds me how I, we, humans, gloss over terrible times and tragedies in life. … I suppose it’s part of our subconscious mechanism to survive. … One thing is certin, however. I now express Easter as Resurrection Sunday. I suspect you’ll have a similar reaction, too.

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Thanks for stopping by My Campfire, and sharing the memories and a little history.  I’ll keep the campfire lit,




PS: If you enjoyed this Campfire Story, share it with someone else. They can receive their own copy and future ones too by joining My Campfire Stories at: And, occasionally, I’ll repeat a gem. cs


Photos (top down): Horse, Courtesy use by Floyd VanDeburgh, Eggs by J. Savoy, and Jesus Drawing by CS..


Campfire Stories coming down the trail. ‘A World Champion Bronc Rider & an Acadamey Winning Movie Star.’ Another is a Memorial Day Tribute to Veterans and Loved Ones. Plus, there'll be a yummy recipe.

God bless! ... cs

Recipe Today: Food for the Soul

Link is to the Bill Gaither singing group with special by David Phelps. Skip the ad that first appears. Enlarge the screen view, increase sound, and feast. It’s powerful! Share this Campfire Story with others!