How to colour eggs for Easter and Nowruz: a fun family craft for lockdown

Colouring eggs this year turned into one of our lockdown highlights. For our little multicultural family, it wasn’t just about the mess (though, yes, there was plenty of that), it was all about connecting childhood memories, culture, and a touch of creativity.

From Persia to the UK: Easter and Nowruz Egg fun

The other day, I was chatting with H about my gran and her Easter egg tradition. He told me his mamam bozorg (grandma) had been doing exactly the same thing for Nowruz, the Persian New Year, for decades. That’s right: egg-decorating has been part of Persian culture for over 4,000 years. Suddenly, our simple lockdown activity felt like part of something much bigger. It also reminded me that, even in confinement, the little things have the power to connect cultures, and hearts.

Childhood memories

Growing up in the UK, my gran would boil eggs wrapped in onion skins. She tied the skins around the eggs with string, filled the pot with water, added a splash of vinegar, and left them to cook. The smell? Unmistakable. The marbled shells when they emerged were magical, streaks of russet and gold, each egg unique.

I loved watching the process, though I can’t remember how long she left them on the stove. It was just… part of Easter. And yet, I realise now it was also a lesson in patience and precision, and a quiet way of passing down tradition. Looking back, I see that the smells, the textures, the anticipation mattered just as much as the final egg.

Art from Persia

This year, I picked up some ceramic eggs from Tesco for Cyrus to paint for both Nowruz and Easter. Four eggs, a little egg-shaped box, three bright paints, and a sheet of decorating ideas. It was the perfect starter kit for my mini-artist.

Before we got painting, we looked at Persian art for inspiration. I tried to explain to Little C that Persian art is one of the richest artistic heritages in the world: gold and silver inlays, geometric patterns, motifs inspired by plants and flowers, intricate designs so meticulous they made my own perfectionist tendencies feel lazy. Of course, we were keeping it simple with 18 shades of Crayola washable paint (£4) and a sturdy brush. But even in our small dining room, with a slightly impatient boy, I felt like we were carrying forward centuries of creativity.

Pint-sized Picasso

Little C approached his eggs with admirable focus (and slightly messy fingers). He tackled each egg layer by layer: base coat first, then more colours on top. Attempting tiny Persian kings on his eggs was ambitious, so he settled for swirls, dots, and abstract shapes, and he did so with pride.

The sheer joy in his eyes when he held up a finished egg was something you can’t buy in a shop. He ended up with something more authentic than a chocolate egg, which melts too quickly anyway.

Lockdown lessons from egg-shells

Lockdown has been a strange time for families like ours. Balancing work, parenting, and a sense of normality has often felt like juggling eggs themselves, fragile, colourful, and liable to slip. Yet, it’s these little things that remind me that culture, tradition, and creativity are not luxuries; they are tiny anchors for our family.

Painting eggs is an opportunity to share stories about who we are, where we come from, and what matters. It’s a gentle, hands-on way to show a child that art and heritage can live side by side.

Nowruz Mobarak and a Hoppy Easter!

As our egg-squisite creations dry, we send you our warmest wishes: Nowruz Mobarak and a very happy Easter.

This year, our eggs reminded me that midlife, and parenting during lockdown, is less about keeping everything perfectly in place and more about passing on traditions, no matter how simple they may seem.