On Easter Eve when we were small
And evening mist began to fall,
A time we little ones loved best
Was the building of our Bunny Nests.

Mom had some little baskets made
So we filled these with straw;
We hid them here and there and hoped
The Easter Bunny saw.

It was so hard to wait that night,
We hardly slept at all,
And kept Old Spot inside in case
Our long-eared friend should call.

Next morning it was hardly light,
We flew outside to see;
And sure enough, he’d passed that way
With gifts for Sis and me.

Marshmallow eggs and candy eggs
With real eggs brown as toffee–
Just like the ones we saw last night
Which Mom had boiled in coffee.

Dad grinned mysteriously and said
You couldn’t always tell
What that old rascal sometimes did.
Had we looked by the well?

There must have been two dozen there,
Like rainbows to our eyes.
Both Mom and Dad were smiling,
Enjoying our surprise.

Long years have passed, yet every spring,
When Eastertime appears,
I see our little Bunny Nests
Sometimes through mists of tears.

Easter Ideals