Ham in the oven, pastel eggs all around, and my grandma screaming at folks to “get out of her kitchen if you’re not stirring something,” Easter brunch was already in full swing.
Roman then entered.
He is five. He was outfitted from head to toe like a scuba diver.
Wet suit. Fins. A set of swimming goggles with a snorkel fastened to them. He even had a soda bottle spray-painted silver tied to his back like an oxygen tank.
Initially, we all simply sort of looked at him like… what?
Then my uncle started to laugh. Then the entire room exploded precisely like that. There were tears among many. A dinner roll caused someone to choke. Laughing so much made my aunt dizzy, so she had to sit down.
Roman believed there would be a “deep sea egg hunt” since someone—ahem, maybe my brother—jokingly informed him the Easter Bunny was concealing eggs in the fish pond this year.
And he meant it.
But we were unprepared for how his tiny “scuba diving mission” would play out or how it would affect the general vibe of our event.
Roman marched directly to the backyard as though on a covert operation, his large flippers smacking against the floor and the goggle straps biting into his small face. Waddling past the grownups, his little legs moved with purpose, totally unaware of the laughter that trailed after him. I could hear him grumbling beneath his breath, most likely getting ready for what he was certain would be the most crucial egg hunt of his young life.
Shaking my head but chuckling, I trailed him outside. “Roman,” I said, “where do you believe the fish eggs are concealed?”
He turned, serious face. Naturally, in the pond. Of course, in the pond. Duh.
I grinned and agreed. Okay, friend. Let’s observe your findings. The pond was a bit of a stretch—mostly filled with lily pads and some goldfish, not exactly a hot area for Easter eggs, but Roman was nothing if not tenacious.
Roman fell to his knees and looked into the water as though hoping to see some eggs shining under the surface when we arrived to the pond. It was cute, but it also made me consider how simple it was for him to be so certain of the world—so assured that everything would turn out exactly as he pictured.
Roman’s face brightened unexpectedly. Pointing toward the lake, he yelled, “I found one!” It’s glistening!
I laughed and squinted; he had surely seen something. Of certainly not an Easter egg; rather, a shiny stone lying on the pond’s bottom reflecting the sun. Roman reached in and attempted to seize it without thinking. Flailing in the water, his tiny arms attempted to grasp the stone.
Roman, hang on! I shouted, hurrying over. But just as I was ready to assist him, he yanked back, his face beaming with victory. His hands held an ancient, worn key in addition to the sparkling stone.
See! It’s a key egg! Holding it up as though he had just found a treasure box, Roman shouted.
I blinked, somewhat perplexed but also interested. I had no idea what sort of key he was holding, but I wasn’t about to bust his bubble. Sure, Roman, that’s a nice discovery. A genuine key to the hidden egg treasure.
Roman grinned. “Secret egg vault, here I come! I’ll be the first!
By now, I could observe several more relatives meandering into the yard to participate in the enjoyment. They’d heard about Roman’s “scuba diving adventure,” and now everyone was interested in what he had discovered.
Roman, what is that you have there? From the back entrance, my cousin Jenna called.
The key to the hidden egg vault was located by me! Roman yelled with pride.
I laughed. It was harmless enough, but something about the way he said it—so sure, so confident—made me pause. Then something else drew my eye: the ancient key. It seemed oddly known. Ornate, it had a small metal engraving.
My granny waddled over, apron still on, wiping flour on her hands before I could quite grasp it. “What’s this nonsense about a secret egg vault?”
I shrugged, but Roman only lifted the key higher. I will open it!
My aunt called from the porch then. Hold on, is that the old barn key?
The phrases caused everyone to stop.
“Grandma,” my mother inquired gently, looking at her mother, “didn’t you say the barn was shut up for a purpose? A long time back?
Practically walking on air from all the laughter, Grandma suddenly halted. Her brows furrowed a little as she glanced down at the key in Roman’s hands. Where did you come upon that?
Roman gazed up at her, totally unaware of the change in the atmosphere. “In the pond. It’s for the hidden egg vault!
Connecting the dots made my heart race. The structure. The main one. Grandma’s unexpected response.
Grandma began to go toward the old barn in the back of the property without saying anything else. The whole family trailed after, interest rising once more. The weight of something unspoken made my heart throb in my chest. When we were children, the barn had always been off-limits; no one had truly clarified why. Grandma would always bring it up in passing, but it was only one of those locations you didn’t inquire about. Until recently, I never gave it any thought.
Grandma paused at the barn door, fingers quivering a little as she grabbed the key from Roman’s hands. She cautiously put it into the lock after staring at it for a few seconds. The door opened with a creak to show dusty shafts of light and the scent of ancient wood and hay.
In the barn’s corner, where we least expected to find an old, neglected Easter egg basket resting gently on a dusty shelf, there was
Everyone became quiet. As Grandma gently came up and picked up the basket, I could hear the breath catch in several throats. Her hands trembled as she extended it before her.
“This… this is the Easter basket your grandfather made,” she replied softly, her voice laden with feeling. Your mother was supposed to get it. For when she was young.
The air appeared to change once more, this time more thick. The laughing from earlier seemed to belong from another lifetime.
Looking up at us, Grandma’s eyes were full of sadness. Your grandfather completed it before he died. Though I never had the heart to let her see it, he wished to present it to her on Easter. It seemed to remind me of what we had lost. So I kept it a secret.
We all stood there, absorbing the gravity of the time. Still holding his snorkel and flippers, Roman scanned the crowd for sad expressions.
I discovered the hidden egg vault, correct? His voice was quiet now, as though uncertain of what had just occurred.
Grandma nodded and smiled gently at him. Indeed, Roman. You did indeed. You discovered something very unique today.
Then I saw the loveliness in the whole event. Roman had revealed a concealed portion of our family past with his naive little error. In his own manner, he had drawn us closer—not only to the past but also to one another.
Later that afternoon, we gathered together as a family recounting tales of my mother’s upbringing and of my grandfather. There was weeping but also joy. And for the first time, the ancient barn—formerly a site of mystery and secrecy—felt like a home once more.
Roman had no idea what he had done, but that day he had given us all a present. He had returned us to something we had lost in the rush of our hectic lives: the tales that shaped our identity.
Occasionally, the most unanticipated events provide us the most deep insights. Occasionally, we have to trip upon items by mistake to understand their significance. Roman, with his little scuba suit and large heart, reminded us then of the need of family, history, and the strength of curiosity.
Share this thusly with everyone who could use a reminder that occasionally, the smallest individuals have the most impact on our life.
