Easter Memories

In Japan Easter was a week of egg hunts for my little students. I would buy more than a dozen 10 egg carton and boil eggs. For the kids I had already colored the eggs and hid them around the school for them to hunt. For the adults I would actually bring the eggs and dye in for them to have a chance to dye eggs during class. I love Easter, I like the pastel colors, bunnies and little chicks. I love spring--although not the allergies it brings--and the lengthing of days as the earth shrugs off winter. But I love Easter probably for the same reason that I love the brightly colored sunsets of Fall--my mother.
One year when I was either 5 or 6 and we lived in the Robberson house in Garvin my mom put us kids to bed and prepared our Easter Baskets. She dyed the eggs and then accidently dropped them on the floor, cracking more than a few. What to do about this dilemma? This was well before all night grocery and convenient stores. And besides, we lived 20 miles from town. Mom could probably have knocked on Mrs. Dempsey's door and gotten her to sell her another dozen eggs from her local grocery but this being the recession era money was tight and not an option. So being the resourceful mother that made our lives growing up brighter, she prepared a story for her questioning children who woke up to broken eggs in their Easter baskets.
When asked she told us this story: Last night as I was getting ready for bed, I heard a knock on the door. Not expecting anyone, I opened the door cautiously and was very surprised when I realized that the visitor was a large rabbit with a waistcoat and a watch in the watch pocket. I knew right away that he was the Easter Bunny. I asked him how I could help him and he explained that as he was crossing the pastures he got hung up on some barbed wire that tore his paw and made him spill his basket. I saw that his paw was bleeding so I asked him to come in to sit down and rest for a while. I got my sewing basket out and mended his paw so he was almost as good as new. He looked at me with deep concern in his eyes and thanked me for mending him but he was still worried because some children would have to get broken eggs in their baskets. He only had enough for the children with no extras. I told him to put his worries away and that my children would be happy to have the broken eggs. So with our agreement he left you the broken eggs and hopped on his way to deliver all the other unbroken eggs in his basket.
Richard and I were estatic to have broken eggs and I remember feeling so proud of my mom for taking care of the Easter Bunny. Later in the day, Richard came back from exploring the pasture with real live Easter Bunny fur. He found the spot where the Easter Bunny had snagged himself crossing the fence. This was really the best Easter ever. And each year, I remind myself just how lucky I am to have a mother that strove to create beautiful images for her children through stories.
Happy Easter everyone.