AN EASTER CONFECTION

   The Easter Bunny is coming soon for my granddaughter who is almost two and half...and this makes me think of an Easter long ago... 

     ...in my kid year this was the number two holiday just a notch below Christmas. And in my family not only did I get an Easter basket – I always got a new pair of new shoes from Freeman’s shoe store. Whether I needed them are not!

     A trip to Freeman’s meant I got to look at the bones in my feet in that big box at the front of his store. (Which I learned years later was a fluoroscope unit – radiating almost every kid in Millville a couple of times a year.)  A shoe store of today could never advertise "See your feet for that perfect fit" - our health/fear/ society has changed a lot. 

     Fred, the greatest shoe man ever, would bring up an armload from the bountiful basement.  And my job was trying them on for what seemed like hours. Parading by my mother had the final say. And taking a passing look in that funny mirror on the floor.  Shopping for shoes was not as fun as looking for toys.  But I always liked seeing Buster Brown and his dog Ty's picture in the heel of each shoe and sad when they inevitably wore off.

   My Buster Brown’s were chosen  – brown again and the same as I got last year, with a guaranteed squeak in every step. I didn’t always get a new outfit for my Easter Sunday's four block pilgrimage to the fourth Methodist Church but I could count on a shiny new pair of shoes.  But back to the good stuff. Easter was mostly about chocolate bunnies.

    Mom and I always end our shoe day with a visit to the great local candy haven of high street – Giuffra’s Candy store. A real candy factory - just the thought of it makes me yearn for a chocolate bunny, wrapped in yellow and purple foil.  The aromas lingered in the air in that shop; an hypnotic combination of jelly beans, milk chocolate, cellophane grass and powdered sugar. Every year I would stand and dream before the giant chocolate bunny on display. It seemed to grow each year.  And I wonder to this day if it was real or brown plastic…did any kid really ever get one three feet high? How long would it last? Could you eat it all by yourself? 

     As a true candy aficionado, I was partial to the 2 pound coconut eggs that would be in my basket - with my name embossed on it in a white  script.  There was also the variety with pink stuff with a yellow center, but that was not as tasty - too sweet.

     This visit to the candy store was my mother’s, not so sly, way of seeing if I had found a new confection that I wanted since last Easter. She always aimed to please. Later she would return to help Mr/Miss Bunny fill my basket to the brim - insuring for another year that I would need a visit to Doc Abrams, the drilling master dentist.

     Honestly, for many years I tried to believe in Santa Claus, hedging my bet on the big one - but I really didn’t believe in the Easter Bunny.  I just couldn’t see how a rabbit could carry a basket, let alone bring a loaded one to everyone. But I went along with it to humor my mother.

     Until I was in high school a ritual continued as I prided myself on making my Easter basket last the whole week of spring vacation. I rationed it out one marshmallow peep at a time. And I smugly knew that my friends ate their whole basket in one day – bunch of outrageous hedonist – but NOT ME! - I righteously told myself.  I was a weird kid.  Frankly, if I could do it over – I would eat everything in the basket before church!  As I grew older I decided that waiting just took longer and didn't prove anything.