By Ron Cooper
Easter Day. A middle-aged man carries an armful of wrapped sweets to the checkout counter at a drugstore. Two of them slip from his grasp and tumble to the floor.
I stop to retrieve them and casually remark:
“Wow, I guess your kids are going to be happy receiving these today!”
“No,” he said, smiling, “They’re for my parents. They’re in their eighties and don’t get out anymore. I wanted to make them an Easter egg basket.”
Sweet memories flooded over me, my child’s heart unbound. Dad and Mom hid Easter egg baskets for me and my three sisters, telling us the Easter Bunny had plenty of surprises in store for us. We turned the house upside down to find our baskets, shrieking with delight when they magically appeared.
Thanks to this stranger, this kind man, for helping me to connect with my childhood again. What a gift!
(Photo by silviarita)