I don’t recall any bad bunnies at Easter in Stearns County.
No one dressed in alarming long-eared costumes. And there were no wicked spins on what was, in Stearns County at least, a benevolent holiday that capped the sacrifices of Lent.
It was an annual ritual to pull the Easter baskets out of the closet upstairs, fluffing the colored plastic grasses to create welcoming nests, then putting them out on Saturday night for the Easter Bunny to fill.
Chocolate eggs, malted eggs, jelly beans, a foil-wrapped bunny.
Easter was celebratory, marking the approach of spring.
We never questioned how the Easter Bunny gained access to our house. Christmas and Santa Claus have a complete story - the North Pole, elves, a reindeer-powered sled filled with gifts. Santa Claus, Mrs Claus, Rudolph, the Grinch. The Island of Misfit Toys.
The Easter Bunny's vacuum of mystery leaves room for imagination.
Last week I made the mistake of sharing a bizarre Easter family portrait that had popped up in my Facebook feed.
The father (presumably) had dressed as a sinister, very tall Easter Bunny, towering over his anxious family.
This simple act of sharing soon yielded a flood of terrifying photos in my feed of families posing with, or being chased by, bunnies gone bad.
Much happens in Stearns County, but we appear to have dodged the era of grown-ups dressed as evil rabbits.
It’s one more thing to be thankful for in this season of renewal, gaily colored eggs, and treats.
Photos Vintage Facebook shares
