I remember it all so clearly… The day the magic left.
After a weekly grocery shopping trip with my mom, it was time to help her unload the packages (does anyone else call bags of groceries packages?) and continue our usual Sunday routine: groceries away, cleaning the house, a big Sunday dinner cooked by my dad involving some kind of chicken or roast, a shower with L’ORÉAL Kids shampoo, and a cartoon before a nightly reading from the Winnie the Pooh book that was the size of a dictionary.
Ah, the joy of holiday concerts. I still remember the lyrics to this day… “Easter Bunny was a friend of mine. I met her back when I was four or five. Everybody thinks she’s small and cute. But that’s a point that I’ll just have to dispute. She’s 5 foot 2, her eyes are blue… (and then something something ) blue choc-o-late!”
I must’ve hummed the song all day with the lyrics on repeat in my head. I took holiday concerts seriously- especially if I was going to one day live out my dream of becoming a famous singer. In all honesty, I probably sang it on the way to the end… when the magic left.
I remember being frozen. I couldn’t move. All I could do was blink. A thousand questions ran through my mind but I knew that basket. That wasn’t just any basket. It was MY basket. My EASTER basket… that only the Easter Bunny would bring to our house every year. So then why would it be in the back of my parents’ van?
No…. no. NO. I immediately started crying- sobbing actually. I remember my mom running to my rescue- thinking something was wrong. Well, she got that right. But it wasn’t the kind of “wrong” she was expecting. It was in that moment that the magic left. My faith in the magic of the Easter Bunny disappeared. It’s like every happy memory with my family on Easter left my heart in that very moment. With just one look, I stopped believing.
Today I was drawing with my niece over FaceTime. I felt like I was just floating on air as I drew. Nothing else mattered but the look on her face, the sound of her giggle, and her excitement and wonder every time she asked to see what I was drawing. I didn’t want to forget how I felt as I was drawing with her and thinking about my old 5 foot 2 friend, the Easter Bunny. For just a little while, the magic was back.
Why is it so easy to stop believing? It felt so real back then. And now as adults, it’s like we can’t just take a moment to believe in something that makes us feel happy, loved and carefree. I miss believing in something just because I believed in it. I didn’t need to see it, or listen to someone else’s opinion. It didn’t matter because the only thing that mattered was the love and hope I had in my heart.
Today while I was drawing with A, nothing else mattered. It was just me, her and the Easter Bunny. There is magic in coloring. There is magic in love. There is magic in the hearts of kids. As adults, we still have so much to learn… like how to get the magic back.
Teachers Write 
This is such a sweet post. As adults, we indeed need to learn how to get the magic back. Looks like you found it spending time with your niece.
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So glad you found a way to recapture some of that joy and magic. May you keep it with you each day!
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I think kids often have a gradual realization but you had such a sudden awakening, it left this strong memory you describe so clearly. I like how you weave the song into your story. And what a nice way to end- sharing some of the old magic with your niece.
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