Friday, April 16, 2010

Here comes Peter Cottontail...

Hoppping down the bunny trail.
By this point, you probably understand that if I'm not running behind, something is terribly wrong. So, here's an update about Easter, only a few days (ok, weeks) late.

Easter was wonderful! The weather was beautiful, Ansley was cute as a button, and the Easter bunny was good to us! We even tried, with marked failure, to catch a baby bunny that was munching on some grass in the back yard.
Though Ansley is a bit too small to go hunting for eggs, she did get to enjoy *part* of a chocolate covered marshmallow bunny. Needless to say, it was a very trying task to get it away from her, but we managed.
She wore her beautiful "Jackie O." dress, and afterwards at lunch with some close family friends, no one commented on my handsome son!
Now that the weather is warm, I've filled her dresser with a ridiculous quantity of dresses. That should help curb the problem.
Easter was such a huge event for me as a child. In fact, believe it or not, I think I can say the anticipation of that furry friend's visit was just as high as the excitement of the jolly fat man's annual squeeze down the chimney.
Growing up, my whole family was within about 50 miles. Christmas was divided between the two sides, but Easter was a different story. Easter was reserved for Mom's side of the family. And it was HUGE.
Typically, there were only about 9 of us that would hunt for eggs. There were 13 of us all together, but the youngest ones weren't really on the scene yet.
There was always a prize egg. And there was always money inside. There was also a prize for the most eggs. It was always difficult to decide if I should only hunt for the prize egg, and be assured of a nice monetary blessing, or, if I should use my position as the oldest and push the other kids around in an attempt to collect the most eggs. However, seeing as how I was the oldest by three years but the smallest by a few inches, there really was no point in putting myself through the turmoil. I went for the prize egg.
The aunts and uncles would hide the eggs, and then line us up by age. I was at the back because I was the oldest, and, quite frankly, the best stinkin' egg hunter in the fam. I was unstoppable.
I was famous for finding that prize egg, despite all the ridiculous hiding places. In the bottom of a trash can full of rain water (that involved a dive to the bottom, and assistance getting out), in a briar bush, in a dog house, and in a cedar tree. Funny thing is, I can't seem to remember what I even spent the money on.
Gradually, as the years went on, we all seemed to outgrow the event, yet we still managed to gather for some rockin' good food. Then, eventually, as time went on, we just stopped all together.
Now, this isn't a sob fest, but I have a lot of memories tied to Easter, and every once and a while, it's nice to look back on those events. The good as well as the bad.
Not only was Easter time for the egg hunt, but it also marks the anniversary of a huge event in my family. Our house was destroyed by fire one Easter Sunday a few years ago. On that day, we lost everything.
Which, really is contrary to the purpose of Easter. No matter how much I enjoy the ushering in of spring, and the ability to wear open toed shoes and white skirts, Easter is so much more to me, and I hope it will be for Ansley.
Easter is the day that death was defeated. It doesn't matter what was in that house as the flames engulfed it, because death was conquered! His word was kept.
So, I hope you enjoyed your holiday, and I look forward with great anticipation to the things I can pass on to Ansley. She's sure to be a master egg hunter, but, more than that, I hope she understands that on that day, so many years ago, the tomb was empty.
Ok, fine. And I hope she learns not to wear white shoes before that holiday.
He has Risen.

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