‘An Easter treat that’s hard to beat’
I just realized that I really should have posted this story before Easter. That way you all could have whipped out your cake pans and created a bunny to dig into after your ham or lamb. (Note: we never had lamb at Easter; my mother swears it smells like “hot wet sweaters.”)
Oh well, you still could “do” a bunny cake. They’re awfully fun to make, and, what with the coconut frosting and the jellybean whiskers, tasty too.
Besides, bunnies don’t really have anything to do with Easter. Not really. Bunnies and eggs were pagan fertility symbols that the early Christians appropriated; they decided they were symbols of the resurrection of Jesus. Though I have a suspicion that the real reason for “stealing” those heathen bunnies and eggs was to cheer up an inherently downer holiday. (Crown of thorns? Dying on a cross? I mean, even rising from the dead isn’t exactly cheerful.)
Now, the singing on Easter is pretty darned cheerful. The Methodist church, where The Child and I would accompany Aunt Eleanor each year — except for the one morning we didn’t realize the time had “sprung forward” and we arrived when everyone else was filing out — has particularly rousing hymns. Driving home, her Childness and I would crank open the sunroof and bellow “Christ the Lord has risen today-yay a-a-a-a-ah-lay-ay-oo-oo-yah!” at the top of our lungs.
Alas, this particular Easter was bereft of bunnies, both the chocolate and the cake kind. That’s because it was just Dude Man and me. No Child, no Eleanor — who, at 98, now lives with her daughter in far-away Kentucky, where, no doubt, she regales the local Methodist outpost with her hymn-singing. No cute nieces-in-law, even.
As for the hymn-singing, I must admit I did launch into “Christ the Lord is Risen Today” while bustling around the kitchen not making bunny cake. Maybe next year. Or maybe next week. I could make the pagan version.
New York City. April 2023