In Christian tradition, Easter Sunday is all about Jésus Christ’s resurrection from death, however many people celebrate this commemorative day by decorating, exchanging, and searching for eggs.
Easter eggs and Easter bunnies are a major attraction during Easter’s festival of rejuvenation of life and living.
From the earliest times, the egg was a symbol of birth in most cultures. Eggs were often wrapped in gold leaf or, if you were a peasant, colored brightly by boiling them with the leaves or petals of certain flowers.
It’s also a great time to share Easter short stories and one of my favourites is the following:
by Beatrix Potter
Once upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names were: Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Peter.
“Now, my dears,” said old Mrs. Rabbit one morning, “you may go into the fields or down the lane, but don’t go into Mr. McGregor’s garden – your Father had an accident there, he was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor.”
“Now run along, and don’t get into mischief. I am going out.”
Then old Mrs. Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella, to the baker’s. She bought a loaf of brown bread and five currant buns.
Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail, who were good little bunnies, went down the lane to gather blackberries.
And then, feeling rather sick, he went to look for some parsley.
But round the end of a cucumber frame, whom should he meet but Mr. McGregor!
He lost one of his shoes among the cabbages, and the other shoe amongst the potatoes.
After losing them, he ran on four legs and went faster, so that I think he might have got away altogether if he had not unfortunately run into a gooseberry net, and got caught by the large buttons on his jacket. It was a blue jacket with brass buttons, quite new.
Presently Peter sneezed, “Kertyschoo!” Mr. McGregor was after him in no time, and tried to put his foot upon Peter, who jumped out of a window, upsetting three plants. The window was too small for Mr. McGregor, and he was tired of running after Peter. He went back to his work.
After a time he began to wander about, going lippity – lippity – not very fast, and looking all around.
An old mouse was running in and out over the stone doorstep, carrying peas and beans to her family in the wood. Peter asked her the way to the gate, but she had such a large pea in her mouth that she could not answer. She only shook her head at him. Peter began to cry.
Then he tried to find his way straight across the garden, but he became more and more puzzled. Presently, he came to a pond where Mr. McGregor filled his water cans. A white cat was staring at some goldfish – she sat very, very still, but now and then the tip of her tail twitched as if it were alive. Peter thought it best to go away without speaking to her – he had heard about cats from his cousin, little Benjamin Bunny.
He went back towards the tool-shed, but suddenly, quite close to him, he heard the noise of a hoe – scr-r-ritch, scratch, scratch, scritch. Peter scuttered underneath the bushes. But presently, as nothing happened, he came out, and climbed upon a wheelbarrow, and peeped over. The first thing he saw was Mr. McGregor hoeing onions. His back was turned towards Peter, and beyond him was the gate!
Mr. McGregor hung up the little jacket and the shoes for a scare-crow to frighten the blackbirds.
Peter never stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to the big fir tree.
He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the floor of the rabbit-hole, and shut his eyes. His mother was busy cooking – she wondered what he had done with his clothes. It was the second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter had lost in a fortnight!
His mother put him to bed, and made some camomile tea – and she gave a dose of it to Peter!
“One tablespoonful to be taken at bedtime.”
Wishing you all egg-cellent fun!
Scotiana.com Team Members