Easter Bunny's Arc

Chapter 9 of 15

Easter Bunny lifted the seventh basket from the altar. Mr. Iceman. He'd heard about this one for years—the maker of ice so clear you could see straight through to the bottom of a frozen lake. Easter Bunny had traveled the world many times over, but he'd never met anyone who could create ice like Mr. Iceman could. He reached into the basket and pulled out a gold medal engraved with the word "Helpful." It felt right in his paw—solid, clear in its meaning. Mr. Iceman helped everyone make the very best ice in the world. But as Easter Bunny turned it over, doubt crept in. The medal honored what Mr. Iceman did, not what his gift meant. Ice melted. Water flowed away. Nothing about ice lasted the way moss or oak saplings did. He couldn't plant ice in the ground and watch it grow. A massive icicle appeared at the edge of the clearing, rising from the earth like a frozen pillar. Mr. Iceman stepped around it, his presence announced by the cold that followed him. Easter Bunny froze, still holding the medal. "I came early," Mr. Iceman said. "I wanted to see what you'd make." Easter Bunny looked at the icicle, then at the medal, then at the spring flowers wilting where frost touched them. "I don't know how to honor something that melts," Easter Bunny admitted. Mr. Iceman nodded slowly. "Then don't honor the ice. Honor what it holds." Easter Bunny understood. He knelt and carved a shallow basin into the ground, lining it with smooth stones. When winter came, the basin would fill with Mr. Iceman's perfect ice—clear enough to reflect the sky. When spring returned, it would melt and water the flowers around it. The ice wouldn't last, but what it gave would. Mr. Iceman built a small igloo beside the basin, its blocks fitting together without gaps. "The structure stays," he said. "The ice inside doesn't have to." Easter Bunny handed him the medal and the basket. Mr. Iceman took them both, touched the basin once, and left. Easter Bunny had one basket remaining, and now he knew that permanence wasn't about what lasted—it was about what kept giving after it was gone.