only if you Believe
TOMORROW WAS Easter Sunday morning, and Mamaw Clark was ready. For the past few days while I was staying with her and Papaw, we had saved all the white eggs the hens had laid on the farm. “Why don’t we eat white eggs around Easter, Mamaw?” I asked as she set them in a bowl on the table. “Are they rotten or something?”
“No, sweetheart. They’re for the Easter bunny. The white eggs are easier for him to paint. Afterward, we’ll bring the colorful ones to the Easter egg hunt.”
I examined one pure-white egg and nodded. Of
