I've always had homemade chocolate-covered fudge eggs for Easter thanks to the family tradition my grandma started when my dad was a boy. On Easter Eve this year, this tradition brought together 4 generations as my grandma piped the frosting leaves, my dad piped the names and flowers, my sisters hand-dipped the fudge, and my nephew scraped the chocolate from the bowl and straight into his mouth!
My dad remembers always having a chocolate covered fudge egg in his Easter basket that his mom would lovingly make for them every year. As we were talking about it the other day, my dad reminisced about the time his mom made these fudge eggs for a fund raiser to build a new church building in Guam. He said she worked so hard and packed them perfectly into coolers to take and sell. As they heaved the coolers from the warm car, the handle slipped, and down it went with a crash. His mom was mortified. They gently picked up the cooler and lifted the lid, and beneath was the aftermath of a chocolate egg hailstorm. She was distraught.
Dad says he thinks she cried, but didn't just toss it all to the birds, she carefully took each egg and repaired what she could and did her best to redeem them from their fall. Smashed icing was carefully removed and new icing could make the eggs look new again. All was not lost, and thanks to her contributions, a new church building was funded!
My grandma is a remarkable woman who cares deeply for her family and puts her heart into creating a beautiful and memorable life for her children, and grandchildren might I add. My dad is no different. Not only did these eggs never miss an Easter appearance at our house growing up, the neighbors also looked forward to the ones we would bring them.
I also remember one year my parents took orders from the neighbors and sold these eggs to earn a little extra money. According to my mom, they were "so much work, and so much pressure" that they only did that the one time. However, the neighbors praised my dad up and down and hinted they'd like more, but my mom tried to reason with him that he was killing himself trying to fill everyone's hopes for an egg.
Even with the fewer fudge eggs, my dad still pumps out several dozen of these every year, and they're still a lot of work. It is recipes like this that are more than just substance, they carry emotion with every bite. You can truly taste the labor and love that went into bringing your mouth a little morsel of heaven.
Thanks be to God for families and to Jesus Christ who made it possible for us all to be together for eternity! Happy Easter!
P.S. There will be fudge eggs in heaven, I'm pretty certain.