I was raised in a Baptist church and spent the first eighteen years of my life a member. Ever since I can remember, myself and my brother always knew our Christmas gifts came from our parents and Easter was more about the leg of lamb, than a magical rabbit. In my home growing up, Easter was about celebrating the death and miraculous resurrection of Jesus.
Because of this, when I do think of Easter, I don’t think of a wildly generous bunny rabbit who leaves special baskets for children, filled with toys and candy …
I think of The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter, even today.