It seems I start out my Easter issues — if not most of my holiday issues — with the caveat that Christian holidays are entirely secular celebrations for my family. I lose subscribers every time I even use the word secular, but that’s okay — I am all about managing expectations, and I want to be clear that I don’t cover any religious titles because that is not my area of expertise.
We do, however, take every opportunity to celebrate the turning of the year. Even though spring in Wisconsin is a dubious affair at best — more like “spring” than non-parenthetical spring — we always welcome Easter with the attitude of people who haven’t seen green for months upon months, people who are eager to tap their birch trees and provide nesting material for the birds and sow new seeds, if the snow relents and the ground allows (which it does, and then it doesn’t, and then it does).
These cycles are, at least to me, immensely comforting — something I hang onto as much spiritually as physically, and not just in these trying times that have gone on much longer than trying times feel like they should. (Then again, what do I know about trying times? I try to remember to count my blessings every day that I was born in this time, in this place, in this life — which is a practice I recommend, especially when you’re feeling blue.)
Our tradition of dyeing eggs with my mother and grandmother holds fast, as does our newer tradition of hosting an egg hunt in our yard. Winter is my favorite season, weirdo that I am, but I forget how much I do enjoy it when it begins to be over: I want to lay my body on the bare earth and look up at the blue sky, I want to read (and re-read) all my books about Beatrix Potter, I want to get out all our picture books about eggs and bunnies and chicks and rejoice that we made it through.
This will likely be my last edition on Easter — I just don’t have that many Easter books to sustain a special edition every year — so let’s enjoy this one together. (And three weeks from now, you’ll receive a special edition on spring because — in case I haven’t made this clear — I feel it’s worth celebrating, and I can).
If you’re looking for more Easter titles, check out my special edition from last year, which features our favorite egg-related book of all time, Rechenka’s Eggs by Patricia Polacco:
May you and your family receive the fresh air, blue skies, higgledy-piggledy process of spring, and renewal of your spirits in whatever way you most need right now, and let’s hop in! 🐰
Little White Rabbit by Kevin Henkes (2011)
There is a reason Kevin Henkes is so beloved — full stop — especially among those with babies and toddlers, and Little White Rabbit showcases this in the best way.
This sweet, simple board book is the story of a little rabbit who hops along, imagining himself in the things he sees (“When he hopped through the high grass, he wondered what it would be like to be green… When he hopped by the fir trees, he wondered what it would be like to be tall”). It’s a gentle nod to the worldview of a toddler, including the experience of getting a little scared and then returning to the safety and reassurance of a grownup’s love (“He still wondered about many things, but he didn’t wonder who loved him”).
I am continually astounded by Henkes pencil-and-ink illustrations, which seem quite simple, but are, in fact, simply beautiful — mice are his most common protagonists, but he has an impressive way of expressing the emotions of any animal, including little rabbits.
If you have a very young child in your life, this one’s for you.
(If you want an Easter-specific Henkes title, check out Owen’s Marshmallow Chick, which is less reassuring but still adorable.)
The Easter Egg Artist by Adrienne Adams (1976)
Adrienne Adams’ charmingly illustrated tale of a young rabbit who discovers his calling is a solid oldie-but-goodie, so don’t let the 46-year-old publishing date convince you otherwise.
Here we meet the Abbotts — yes, the rabbits Abotts; ask me how much I love this — a rabbit family whose business is decorating Easter eggs. The parents are hardworking and diligent, but their son Orson is flightier and more prone to play than work. The family decides to take a cross-country trip, loading up the car to visit the beach, accepting a few odd jobs here and there, painting planes and such, until they arrive in a place with a great unadorned bridge — and when the townspeople ask the Abbott family to decorate it, Orson is suddenly seized with the desire to do it all himself. He does, and it turns out to be the birth of an artist, as Orson goes on to not only help his parents in their Easter egg business but come up with new innovations (painted ostrich eggs) and finally find the fulfillment he’s been looking for, which was, of course, inside him all along.
Adams’ tempera, gouache, watercolor, and crayon illustrations are endearing no matter her subject (see A Woggle of Witches for some of the most joyful witches you’ve ever seen), but there is an extra freshness and energy here in the rabbits’ jaunty poses and in the content itself, which is, after all, about finding the hidden talent inside of you and letting it grow into something beautiful. It’s a lovely kind of metaphor for spring.
Adams illustrated another Easter book, The Easter Bunny That Overslept by Priscilla and Otto Friedrich, if you want more from her for this holiday.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Can we read? to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.