A journalist observes life in the far north.
I love holidays because my mom usually went all out. We didn’t have much but mom always made sure we had a special holiday. Waking up on Christmas morning or Easter was one of the best things about my childhood. I remember that happy feeling of anticipation. I want my kids to have special memories too.
But I don’t like lying about Santa and the Easter Bunny. I told Jade about the Easter Bunny the other day and I felt silly. “So, this bunny is going to come around soon to hide some eggs and a gift basket.”
A friend of mine suggested that I focus on the religious meaning of Easter but the problem is that I am not a Christian believer. I celebrate Easter out of habit. It’s part of the American culture.
I gleaned from various Web sites, including Wikipedia, that German settlers get the credit for the Easter Bunny. They call him Osterhase. They reportedly introduced this mythical character after settling in Pennsylvania Dutch country in the 18th Century. (By the way, the Dutch apparently invented Santa Claus.)
I wonder if holidays can be enjoyed by children without the sham. Would they have as much fun if they knew their moms and dads were hiding the eggs and the baskets?
Probably not. Once I knew the legends of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny were false, the holidays lost a certain luster.
Maybe I’ll tell my children about the Easter Bunny without saying whether I believe in him.
And when they are old enough to realize that a bunny coming into the house to hide stuff is implausible, and they ask who is hiding their Easter baskets, I’ll be coy and change the subject.