Easter Memories

Come across this story online. It is a true story of a Laurel Jean's childhood memory about Easter. You can get to know more about her here: http://www.laureljean.com . As simple and ordinary as it sounds, trust me you will feel good reading it... ;)

EASTER MEMORIES
by Laurel Jean

Throughout my life, I have heard many profound interpretations of the Easter story in drama, in song, in written form, and in the words ofgreat speakers. However, my personal experience was the most profound. It was when God taught me to have patience and to trust Him, with the help of loving people and, of course, His gentle creatures.

I was seven years old and recovering from the chicken pox. My maternal grandfather (mom's dad) was a patient in the cancer ward of Decatur Memorial Hospital. Grandma was dividing her time, helping to care for me and visiting her husband. Mom was working full time, along with helping to care for me and visiting her dad.

That Easter Sunday morning found the three of us -- mom, grandma, and me -- in the car traveling to the hospital. I was very sad,because I was not yet well enough to be allowed to see my grandpa, the hero of my childhood. For as long as I had known him, he had been severely crippled by rheumatoid arthritis, confined to a chair and at this point, completely bedridden. He was slowly dying from cancer of the esophagus.

Grandpa had learned Braille so he could help me learn to read. He taught me the basics of everything from music to life in general, and told me countless stories, reading aloud from titles that ranged from "TheHoly Bible" to "The Adventures Of Alice In Wonderland". I couldn't imagine not being with this special man on Easter Sunday. But, the rules had to be kept and I would have to sit in the downstairs lobby while grandma and mom took turns visiting grandpa and sitting with me.

As the three of us crossed the hospital parking lot, mom and grandma noticed a little wren which had apparently been hit by a car. The bird was still alive, though unconscious. Mom lifted the wren from the ground and handed it to me, instructing me to cradle it in my hands until we could find a paper cup, punch an air hole in the lid, and give the little bird a place to try to revive. In the lobby waiting room, mom and I sat holding the sleeping bird in its container while grandma visited grandpa. Then, mom took her turn while grandma sat with me.

As grandma and I were sitting there, who should happen through, but the Easter Bunny! He had been to the children's ward and was accompanied by a very sweet African-American lady who said to my grandmother, "Oh! Let this little girl see the Easter Bunny!" A very tall, very discerning bunny knelt in front of me as I stood, allowing me to touch his furry ears, nose, and whiskers. When I reached his hand, I found a small sack of candy, which he gave to me. I gave him a hug, and before they left, the lady gave me a dollar and wished me a Happy Easter.

Mom returned shortly thereafter, and we walked outside. The little wren had begun to move around in the paper container, and as we gingerly lifted the lid, the bird flew away with a renewed sense of purpose.

This took place just one month prior to my grandfather's death, and continues to be a treasured memory. I hold very dear the mother and grandmother who respected life down to the smallest of beings, the grandfather who put aside his own pain and suffering in order to make my life better, and the grownups (Bunny included) who put aside issues of "disability" and "skin color" so that I -- a little girl -- could be reminded that God loved me.

"Don't just see what you can do or cannot do...trust God that he may use you to do things within your capability but beyond what you can see for yourself."