I never could understand as a kid why the Easter Bunny had to be so terrifying — you know, the one at the mall or one that an organization like the Lions Club would bring in for kids to go see.

Santa Claus was such a jolly old fella, but the Easter Bunny always seemed to look so frightening.

I can remember child after child going up to see the Easter Bunny and coming back in tears. It was never a pleasant experience for most of my younger years — but as terrifying as that tradition was, Easter Sunday was a magical experience.

We did not have a lot of organized Easter egg hunts that I can remember, but getting up Sunday morning and scouring the house to find the real eggs my parents had hidden was always a lot of fun.

Then there was the basket full of candy to gobble up over the next week, if it lasted that long.

It was interesting because somehow not all the candy in your basket was your favorites, so you would have to spend some time later Easter Sunday or the next day getting together with your neighborhood friends and trying to trade for the stuff you really liked.

But the one thing your never got rid of was the chocolate bunny. No matter how bad the chocolate might have tasted, and there were some years when it was pretty bad, you never traded that away because it was the centerpiece of the basket.

Once the sugar-filled rush of the basket was over, it was off to church.

I remember you always got dressed up to go to church, no matter what day it was on the calendar.

Today, it seems like everyone feels they can show up in jeans and a T-shirt for church. That was not the case growing up. You wore a suit and tie if you were male, and you would wear a dress, usually with a bonnet, if you were female.

I rocked a pair of black pants with a white shirt and bow tie. The outfit was completed with a dress coat and a fedora hat — but church was only the second course of Easter traditions, if you will. The real payoff was Easter dinner, either at home or at my grandparents’ house.

I loved the smell of the ham cooking in the kitchen no matter where we were at. For me, Easter dinner was ham and mashed potatoes, corn or another vegetable, as well as some Polish dishes that my grandmother and mom would make.

My daughter Kirsten this week asked me if we were having a pie on Sunday. I told her no. I do not remember pie being much of the Easter celebration, but I do remember there being a cake, usually in the shape of a lamb, to have for dessert.

Easter was one of those magical family holidays.

I hope you and your family were able to sit down on Sunday and continue the tradition of Easter dinner.

Scott Novak, pictured in the white suit above, is the sports editor at Leader Publications, and has been employed with the company for more than 30 years. He can be reached at scott.novak@leaderpub.com