"Well, how is the Easter Bunny going to know that we need him or her to come early?" Lily wanted to know.
"I will just send the Easter Bunny a message like I did last time," I said.
"Well, I will put a note in the mail......or maybe I can tell the chickens who can tell the birds who can take the message to the Easter Bunny," I replied thoughtfully.
"Oh, I know!" she exclaimed. "We could tell the cats to tell the Easter Bunny since they go far away hunting."
"Hmmmm, I sure hope that wasn't the Easter Bunny's liver at our doorstep yesterday," I responded.
There was a dramatic pause as it slowly registered in their now warped little minds. Then the car exploded in laughter as I said a silent 'You're Welcome' to their future therapists.
I was thinking about it recently: There is a strange sort of beauty in being lost. You see, if you are never lost, then you don't get to experience the supreme exhilaration of being found again. You don't get to experience the joy that accompanies finding your way back home, being welcomed with open arms, rejoicing in reunion. Traveling can do this for loved ones. ("Let there be space in your togetherness," said Kahlil Gibran, reminding us that in that space, in that time apart, we recall fondly those we love and we miss them....something not allowed by continual togetherness.....which is why I send my kids to opposing corners over and over and over again.....)
And while the Easter Bunny is probably very happy not being found (you know, that whole avoiding organ removal and full limb dismantling thing), the rest of us, well, sometimes being found, coming home again, is all it takes to renew our spirits and lift us toward joy.
|Dawson left the safety of the run to find Bingo.....|
|Lily brought them both home again.|
And we rejoice.
(Even if I am still plotting to find them a new home!)
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