After a break for medical issues, I have decided to post once a week. This post is a combiniation of thoughts about Easter memories.
The story of the origin of the Easter rabbit is from Germany. A clothed rabbit, dressed as a judge, passed judgement on tthe children to see if they would receive treats.
In our family, we received our treats in the same baskets each year. The plastic toys were included as filler with the exception of a tin chick that you could wind up and watch it peck it’s way across the floor.
The marshmallow chocolate bunnies were my favorite.
One year, I received a blow up rabbit holding my basket. Waking up in the dim light of morning, I saw a tall figure at the foot of my bed. He was standing on a chair and looked imposing .
I hid in my covers and didn’t come out until I had enough light and my glasses to see the bunny. I had to pose with that blow up toy for the Easter photos.
Now I don’t eat the Easter treats. My basket is long gone but I still have the memories of that little tin chick.
I watched little boys and girls arrive to church with new Easter toys.
They may hold a bunny or hug a chick.
I smile, remembering a toy peep that was once found in my basket.
Seeing the smiles and joy on their faces is well worth the long service. Happy Easter blessings