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Putting the Easter Bunny Back Into Easter

“And he departed from our sight that we might return to our heart, and there find Him. For He departed, and behold, He is here.”    St Augustine

Jon had painful shoulder surgery, and Leisa had stomach issues, and I had the vicarious excuse I needed to snuggle under the covers a few extra hours instead of driving a half hour to attend the typically chilly sunrise service on Easter morning.  It was surprisingly easy to let laziness and fatigue trump the infusion of vigor and goodwill I could expect at the service based on past experience.

12 a.m. – I sashayed right by the alarm clock without stopping to set it. Bed beckoned and I complied… for a while.

4 a.m.  –  my great white bunny invented a new medley of irritants to get me out of bed that ranged from tugging on the sheets to stretching her tubby 10.2lb body as high up on the bed as possible (not really very far, but I could see her ears, nose and mouth over the side).  It took a considerable effort to ignore her, but my resolve was firm.  Sleep, not snacks for ill-behaved rabbits.  She left for a while.  I slept for a while.

5:30 am – she was back and more adamant than ever.  She tugged on the comforter and the sheets, she opened a box of greeting cards and started shredding envelopes, she hopped up and clawed the bedside table, and she destroyed the newspaper section I kept by the bed waiting for the inspiration I needed to figure out the last word in the Jumble.  First thing Easter morning and I wasn’t thinking of the glory of the day, I was applying considerable restraint to stem the stream of profanity that threatened to come spewing out in the direction of the bunny I usually love. “Some time when you’re asleep, I’m gonna wake you up rudely, and demand you make me a treat, how would you like that?”  She stared her vacant blind stare and poked her wiggling nose in my direction.  She’d still love me.   Then I looked at the clock and just laughed.  Mystic’s antics woke me at the precise time I would have set my alarm had I planned on getting to the church on time.  I could still take a shower, get dressed, apply medication to her eyes and give her an extra treat for conveying the much-needed message that I should get my butt to the service.

From there the morning set the perfect tone for the rest of the day. The quiet solitude of my drive, the friendly church community some dressed to the nines (one with a fab purple Easter hat) and others  to the fours (i.e.: me; I didn’t even brush off the bunny fur as convenience and speed were my primary concern), the hopeful message, and the chance to capture this rare time on my ever-present camera made it so worthwhile to battle lethargy, bad hair and intense fog before the glimmer of hope in a brightening sky lifted the fog and my spirit.  Here are some images from my journey to and from the service held in Old Boxford Village Cemetery by First Church Congregational, Boxford.


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“Thanks Easter Bunny, Bwawk, Bwawk!”  (Cadbury Egg ad)

(c)2011 by Alison Colby-Campbell

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