Ukrainian-style Easter eggs take on new meaning for North Texans amid Russian invasion

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Iryna Dovzhanska didn’t learn the art of pysanky — traditional Ukrainian Easter eggs — until after her family moved to the United States.

Born in Ukraine in the 1960s, when the country was still part of the Soviet Union, Dovzhanska couldn’t openly practice Catholicism. Ukrainians were not allowed to celebrate their culture or customs, and she didn’t know what the Ukrainian flag looked like until she was in her 20s.

Holidays like Easter and Christmas meant having to drive to her grandparents’ house an hour away from her home in western Ukraine. Dovzhanska had to hold her daughter’s baptism and confirmation in secret.

The pysanky egg tradition was never part of her upbringing.

When she moved to the U.S. in the early-2000s, she longed to preserve her culture and identity.

The tradition has taken on additional meaning this Easter because of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, which brings daily pain and anguish for those with family and loved ones in the eastern European country. For some, including Dovzhanska, the pysanky ritual represents her hope for the suffering of Ukrainians to end.

Dovzhanska said she was intimidated by the intricacy and complexity of pysanky, and doubted she would be able to make them. When Dovzhanska and her family visited Ukraine in summer 2002, she wanted her daughter to learn the tradition.

When she took her daughter to a museum in western Ukraine, she watched her learn the craft from a pysanky artist.

That’s when Dovzhanska decided to try it herself.

“The first one,” she said, “always is something that leaves much to be desired.”

Dovzhanska now leads classes on pysanky, which she said has allowed her to stay connected to her Ukrainian culture. She estimates she has made hundreds.

Meditation and meaning

Pysanka, or pysanky (plural) is derived from the Ukrainian word “pysaty,” which means “to write.” The art form is believed to have pagan roots and predates when Christianity was introduced in Ukraine. Similar Easter egg traditions exist in other eastern European countries, including in Poland.

Ukrainians usually make pysanky in the days leading up to Easter. The finished eggs are placed in baskets and covered with hand-embroidered cloth as decorations alongside food items, including horseradish mixed with grated beets, smoked ham and sausage, and paska — a bread that is traditional for the holiday. Families consume the food after a priest blesses the basket.

The practice was preserved and folded into Christian traditions, and today is a cherished part of Easter for Ukrainians.

Designs are lightly drawn onto the egg using a pencil or similar tool. After the egg is cleaned with vinegar, the first layer of a desired color is added by submerging the egg into dye.

Melted wax is applied to the portions of the egg where the desired color needs to be preserved before it’s dipped into a different dye. The process is repeated for each additional layer of color. After the final color is added, the egg is held over a fire and the wax is wiped away, revealing the different patterns, each with their own meaning. The final step usually involves making a small hole at the bottom of the egg and draining out the yolk by blowing air into the gap.

Patterns can include religious symbols, depictions of animals or plant life, each with their own meanings.

A pysanka with a bee, for example, can mean good health and fortune. A fish can represent respect for higher ideals and is also seen as a symbol of Jesus Christ. Colors also have meanings: Black stands for eternity, brown for nature. Red is passion.

“Every region has their own designs, based on geography, based on history and what is relevant to the region,” she said.

During the hours-long process, people are encouraged to meditate about the symbols and colors that will be inscribed onto the eggs. They are viewed as a talisman that wards off evil and provides protection, Dovzhanska said.

When Dovzhanska is making a pysanka that is deeply personal, such as the one she made for her father’s 70th birthday, she likes to work alone. But Ukrainians also make pysanky with family members and friends as a social activity, she said.

A way to heal

Chrystya Geremesz, a board member of the Ukrainian American Society of Texas, also makes pysanky. On a Saturday afternoon earlier this month, she gathered at her home in Little Elm with friends and her daughter to create pysanky.

Laid out on the table were jars filled with dyes, pencils and candles, which are used to melt beeswax into the funnel of a “kistka,” a special tool used to apply the wax onto the egg.

In the kitchen, sandwiches are laid out on the counter, with refreshments and some wine. Getting curry for takeout is also part of the tradition this year for Geremesz and her family.

Geremesz said she learned how to make pysanky when she was 6 years old. She, like Dovzhanska, taught pysanky classes, but has not done so for the past few years because of the pandemic. She did not have time to hold classes this year because much of her free time has been spent on organizing rallies and efforts to send humanitarian support to Ukraine.

But she still made time to gather with family to make pysanky. It has helped her deal with the daily stress of thinking about the war.

“It’s actually very relaxing. It’s more, in a way, healing, because when you’re making your egg, you have to be intent on your design,” she said. “It’s hard to think about other things. Ukrainians believe that as long as pysanky are made, that evil will be kept at bay.”

Natalya, her daughter, reflected on what was happening in the world the last time she practiced making pysanky — more than 15 years ago.

“The last time was when I was 12, and the war was happening in Iraq; it was another war,” she said. “War is such an unnecessary thing to me. Even when I was younger, I thought that war was such an unnecessary exercise of power.”

Hope in rebirth

With the Russian-Ukrainian War incessantly on her mind, Dovzhanska said, the tradition gave her a way to channel her grief.

“Easter used to be a happy event, friends would come over and have breakfast, and we would go visit more friends and have large gatherings,” she said. “Definitely not this year.”

While she was looking for designs and themes for her pysanky this year, Dovzhanska said she was inspired to create one to show support for Chernihiv, a city in northern Ukraine that has been heavily shelled in the Russian invasion.

For weeks, she had been watching the news and seeing the damage to the city. She researched pysanky designs that are common in the Chernihiv region.

The designs on the pysanka she made while thinking of Chernihiv include grapes, which symbolize the unity of family members. With the war, she said, the grapes represent her hope for all Ukrainians to be unified.

“There is a lot of greenery in that design, which represents youth and rebirth,” Dovzhanska said. “So hopefully that city will be reconstructed and rebuilt, as well as other cities.”