When I was little, I liked to write letters to the Easter Bunny. I knew he was real, because we often had snow on Easter morning in those days, and invariably there were tracks – like two exclamation points side-by-side – leading directly to our back door and away again.

So I wrote to him, and he replied – in long, looping letters, like a man’s script crossed with rabbit ears. His answers were like riddles: I asked how old he was, and he replied, “I’m as long in the tooth as I am in the ear.” That sort of thing.

* * * * *

Last night, three-year-old Trevor would periodically stop what he was doing and walk to the door or window. He was looking to see if the Easter Bunny was “peeking with his creepy eyes.” He said this matter-of-factly – he was not afraid; he spoke instead as one who has looked into the hare’s black eyes and seen only wildness.

* * * * *

Jodi took her daycare boys and our two oldest to Living Stations of the Cross the other day. Earlier in the day, she asked them why we celebrate Easter. One of them said, “So we can get Chuck E. Cheese dollars in our baskets from the Easter Bunny.” Others corrected him, sharing the story of Christ’s death and resurrection, and explaining the Easter is even more important than Christmas!

But Trevor may have summed it up the best. “Trevor,” asked Jodi, “do you know why we celebrate Easter?”

“To make God happy!” he said.

* * * * *

At Jodi’s parents’ parish, Our Lady of the Black Hills, there is a young woman who is studying to become a nun. She was singing in the choir during Good Friday services – devout in that quiet and unassuming way Jodi exhibits. Then she stepped forward and sang alone, accompanied only by the pianist, and God’s glory was revealed.

* * * * *

“Roll Away the Stone” had particular resonance today. The darkness of the verses illuminated by the triumphant chorus – you can almost imagine the light of morning breaking into the tomb as the seal is broken …

* * * * *

Wishing you peace and joy this Easter, friends!