Inkspots: Of Easters long ago
When I was little, Easter meant only one thing – a visit from the Easter Bunny. The fact that it was when Jesus rose from the dead to save us all wasn’t on my horizon yet. (I hope I wasn’t the only child to get religion late!) At our house, the Easter Bunny (hereinafter referred to as EB, for brevity’s sake) left clues for my sister and me written in rhyme, hidden in various rooms, leading eventually to our Easter baskets.