Throwback Easter

As our sons were homeschooled up till HS, they were not exposed to the usual--and early-- dream-destroying reality of public school life when it came to childhood myths like Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, etc.

My wife even went so far as to put bunny footprints in baking soda or flour on the rug leading up to the hearth where the baskets would be wrapped, waiting to reveal their sugary treasures to their respective owners. Included with those treasures was usually one or two pretty substantial gifts. Nothing like Christmas, of course, but not just jelly beans and a chocolate bunny, either.

On the day after one Easter, when my eldest son Brett was twelve, he had a Little League game. While sitting on the bench watching the other team warm up, Brett turned to his teammates and innocently asked, "So, guys, what did you all get from the Easter Bunny this year?"

In unison, twelve heads turned slowly down the bench towards him, all with furrowed brows and quizzical looks on their faces.

Poor Brett was left to ask, "What? Why are you looking at me like that? What did I say?"

And his buddies just shook their heads.

When he got home, he confronted me and demanded to know the truth about the Easter Bunny.

So I told him. And I told him why the story existed and that love was the motivator. While he was a bit crestfallen, he took it pretty well.

But I persisted.

"And what else do you think is a story like that?"

He thought for a minute and said, "The Tooth Fairy?"

"Yup. And what else?" I asked.

Slowly, a look of pure horror and disbelief came over his face, and through tears he spluttered, "NOT SANTA, TOO!"

I confirmed his worst fear, and he was not only crestfallen, he was heartbroken. But I asked him to help perpetuate the story for the sake of his younger brothers, and to his unending credit, he did.

None of these revelations, however, dimmed his excitement for any holiday, especially Christmas, by even one lumen.

And at the age of thirty, he was still running down the steps of our ancestral home screaming in excitement like a banshee and jumping with unbridled exuberance from the landing to the first floor.

Because he felt the love that powered the stories for all those years, and I strongly suspect they will continue with his own children.