No Easter Chicks

Easter is coming, and so much activity revolves around this special day. It used to be that I stressed about this holiday, that had become way too busy for me. I dreaded the store aisles of endless bunnies and eggs, and thought way too much emphasis was put on chocolate and marshmallow chicks.

Speaking of chicks, I didn't even like to think about them. When I was four years old, I had a terrible experience with a chick. It was in those days that we used to go to our local parish, Holy Name of Mary Church on the Saturday before Easter and go hunting for Easter eggs placed in brown paper bags that were spread about the wide dirt property that was used for the church parking in the 1960's when I was a child.

My brother, Ruben had won the prize of a chick because he gathered the most brown bags. This I felt was unfair to begin with, as I only managed to get my hands on one brown paper sack-- I couldn't compete with the older kids, and to this day, I still don't get it why the prize was given for grabbing as many bags as possible. Wasn't that enough prize in itself?

As I recall, Ruben won the prize that year, and won a real live baby chick. It really was a cute little thing.

I still remember that Saturday afternoon. My little sister, Ceci had just been born a few months before, and a relative had given my mom a blanket in one of those boxes that had a cellophane "window" so the folded blanket in the box could be seen. I was immediately fascinated with this box, quickly reasoning that it could be a 'television'. I immediately framed my face with the box lid, and jumped off the bed to go make my first 'TV appearance' to my siblings.

Unfortunately, when I bounced off the bed to the floor, I didn't realize that Ruben had allowed his new pet chick to roam on the floor. Splat! My bare foot plopped down on that little creature, and it was a fatal blow. The next thing I knew, Ruben was crying to our mom, as he was going around the house cupping the chick in his hands.

I felt terrible, and to this day, think that it's a very irresponsible idea for any adult, let alone a church staff member to decide to give such a delicate creation to any child, no matter how many brown bags he or she may have found.

So it's no coincidence that I have chosen to fill my children's and grandchildren's Easter baskets with lots of goodies like chocolate eggs, foil wrapped Easter bunnies, and plastic eggs full of jelly beans and/or M&M's. One thing you'll never find in their baskets is a marshmallow chick. That's where I draw the line. Somethings are never forgotten, and I just can't fit a chick into a picture of a happy Easter experience.