The Truth of the Easter Bunny

When I was younger, I believed every word  my parents told me and never questioned them.  Now when I say I believed everything they told me, I mean everything from eating carrots to make my eye sight better, to a large over weight jolly man who slides down the chimney, eats some cookies, drinks some milk, and leaves me gifts for being a good girl.  My parents brought me up to be obedient and to listen.  Anytime I was disobedient, I would be sent to sit on the stair case for hours on end.  One time, I not so sneakily stole a cookie before dinner and was sent to the stairs for what felt like an eternity.  I decided from that point on that I would never put myself through that kind of torture again.  So when they told me that every year around April, we celebrate Easter and that means that the Easter Bunny visits our home and leaves Easter baskets, full of chocolate and jelly beans and toys, I believed them.  But I was a curious child and always needed to know why.  

I remember asking my mother, "Mom, how does a bunny carry baskets and get into our house without a key?"  She looked at me and said, "Well Elena, the Easter Bunny is a special bunny.  He is larger than most bunnies and has been trained to carry baskets.  He doesn't need a key because just like Santa, he always finds his way into the house." That still didn't make sense to me so I said "But how mom? We have an alarm, won't that go off when he comes in?" I will always remember her response.  She said "No, the Easter Bunny is not a bad guy and the alarm protects us from bad guys."  I looked at her and said, "Oh OK, that makes sense.  The Easter Bunny is really good and brings us presents."  That was the end of that discussion.

From Wikipedia

Anytime I saw a bunny from that point on, that bunny symbolized Easter and chocolate and egg hunts.  I would even feel sorry for that bunny because I saw how small it was and knew it would never be big enough to be the Easter Bunny.  I found myself feeling sad for every bunny I saw, not realizing that no one else felt that way.  To anyone else looking at that bunny, they saw a cute, fluffy rabbit.  It's no surprise that when I finally learned that my parents were in fact the "Easter Bunny", I was crushed and confused.  You mean to tell me that all these years I ACTUALLY BELIEVED that a fluffy bunny came into my home, carrying baskets, and left presents?  What was I thinking?

That experience taught me that other people have the ability to sway a person's interpretation of a symbol.  Especially if it is a parental figure, someone who plays such a strong role in your life and who dictates to you right from wrong.  A symbol can have multiple interpretations, it all just depends on who is providing the interpretation.  That is the beauty of it.  My parents let me believe that every bunny was the Easter Bunny because if they tried to convince me otherwise, their story of the Easter Bunny would unravel and they would be exposed.  To be honest, of all the stories my parents told me when I was little, this is the one I wish was true.