Finally.
I slowly open my eyes and take a peek outside. Not yet dawn. The dew shines beneath the low moon, and no crickets make sound. Everything is sleeping, and it’s beautiful. I stick my head back inside and get to work. Thousands of chocolate bunnies and chickens line the room in tiny pink and green baskets. With of flick of my hand, they all disappear, ready to be called upon whenever I may need them.
This journey is a long one, seemingly longer than the ones in the past. I stop at houses, lingering only to tuck in a cold child, or leave a large chocolate egg. (Only for the good households, of course. There are less being left this year. A shame.)
As I jump by the houses with no children, I see disagreeing couples fighting over ridiculous things. They’ve obviously been awake all night, and for what? It’s Easter. Shouldn’t we all be happy?
Finally, I arrive at the last house scribbled upon my list.
I tiptoe through the back door and place a green Easter basket by the stairs. I turn around, and to my horror, a fairly young boy is facing me.
“Easter Bunny?” he says, drowsily, but happy.
I cannot speak the English language, but I know it very well. I nod my head, and place a finger over my mouth. He shouldn’t tell anyone.
“We don’t need the basket,” he says with a smile.
“Our family has everything it needs. A house. Love. I mean, chocolate is pretty good, but we don’t need it. But I bet someone else does. Take it.”
I smile.
Hopping over to him, I pull a small piece of cotton from my tail and place it in his little hands. With it, he can call upon me whenever he likes anytime of the year. Then we can talk.
And with that, I’m gone.
Brandon, age 9.
It’s beautiful how someone so young can know so much more than some people that are older. There is still good in the world, and happiness is contagious.
Like a vine, he’ll spread across the world, sharing his love and warmth with all, and every Easter, he’ll remember a strange occurrence that may have changed his life. The world still has hope, and you’re never too young to do something great.
I slowly open my eyes and take a peek outside. Not yet dawn. The dew shines beneath the low moon, and no crickets make sound. Everything is sleeping, and it’s beautiful. I stick my head back inside and get to work. Thousands of chocolate bunnies and chickens line the room in tiny pink and green baskets. With of flick of my hand, they all disappear, ready to be called upon whenever I may need them.
This journey is a long one, seemingly longer than the ones in the past. I stop at houses, lingering only to tuck in a cold child, or leave a large chocolate egg. (Only for the good households, of course. There are less being left this year. A shame.)
As I jump by the houses with no children, I see disagreeing couples fighting over ridiculous things. They’ve obviously been awake all night, and for what? It’s Easter. Shouldn’t we all be happy?
Finally, I arrive at the last house scribbled upon my list.
I tiptoe through the back door and place a green Easter basket by the stairs. I turn around, and to my horror, a fairly young boy is facing me.
“Easter Bunny?” he says, drowsily, but happy.
I cannot speak the English language, but I know it very well. I nod my head, and place a finger over my mouth. He shouldn’t tell anyone.
“We don’t need the basket,” he says with a smile.
“Our family has everything it needs. A house. Love. I mean, chocolate is pretty good, but we don’t need it. But I bet someone else does. Take it.”
I smile.
Hopping over to him, I pull a small piece of cotton from my tail and place it in his little hands. With it, he can call upon me whenever he likes anytime of the year. Then we can talk.
And with that, I’m gone.
Brandon, age 9.
It’s beautiful how someone so young can know so much more than some people that are older. There is still good in the world, and happiness is contagious.
Like a vine, he’ll spread across the world, sharing his love and warmth with all, and every Easter, he’ll remember a strange occurrence that may have changed his life. The world still has hope, and you’re never too young to do something great.
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