The Easter Bunny Story: A Top-Secret Mission! (Ages 5-6) 🐰

Do you know that Easter bunnies aren’t just fluffy heroes, but part of a top-secret delivery service for holiday magic? The tale of Barnaby (Easter Bunny Agent No. 25) is a high-stakes adventure created by a professional educator for children aged 5–6. In this one-of-a-kind story, everything goes sideways: a leaky basket, a sneaky fox in checkered trousers, and a midnight mission under the moonlight.

Stunning, original illustrations will transport you to Velvet-Green Valley, where one tiny mistake almost ruins the surprise every child waits for on Easter morning. Can Barnaby the Bunny fix it all before the world wakes up? The secret is hidden in the final moments of this grand Easter adventure.

🥕 The Easter Adventures of Barnaby: Agent No. 25

Not far from a winding little river, in a place called Rabbitdale (or, as the long-eared locals call it—Velvet-Green Valley), life bustled merrily. It was a land of rolling green hills, where every respectable burrow boasted a front door painted in a bright, festive color. And in front of every door lay a tiny paw-mat with a friendly greeting:

“Welcome! We’re glad to see you—even if you forgot to wipe your paws.”

The Rabbit Dynasties of Velvet-Green Valley

You see, many people mistakenly believe there is only one Easter Bunny. What a ridiculous notion! Even the nimblest bunny in the world—even if he had ten pairs of paws and three spare tails—could never hide all the treats in the gardens before the morning dew had dried.

That is why whole dynasties of master bunnies live in Velvet-Green Valley, and every family has its own special gift:

• The Twigkins — elite scouts and masters of every woodland shortcut and secret tunnel.
• The Goldenthistles — the artistic guild; they make sure every eggshell shines brighter than the spring sun.
• The Velvetblooms — unmatched masters of stealth. They can slip past the grumpiest, sharp-eared cat without snagging a single thread on the rug.

And many, many more! Just watch the mysterious swaying of the grass at sunset, and you’ll know: in Velvet-Green Valley, life is never dull.

In large bunny families, names are given strictly in order—otherwise, a grand tea party would turn into total chaos. Our hero was officially known as Barnaby, the Twenty-Fifth of the Rustle-Whiskers. His family held a very important role: they were the ones entrusted to wrap every Easter egg in special, softly rustling paper.

Barnaby No. 25 was an exceptionally hardworking bunny. His little blue jacket was always spotless, his whiskers were groomed to perfection, and his ears were always tuned to the wind. Truth be told, he was just starting his career, and tonight was his very first solo mission with a basket of brightly colored eggs.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves—there is still a bit of back-story to tell…

What Does Chocolate Butter Have to Do with It?

In every dynasty of Easter bunnies, the most precious treasures aren’t their swift feet (those can always keep running) or even the Easter eggs themselves (those can always be dyed anew).

What mattered most were the baskets—sturdy, enormous baskets with tight-fitting lids. The bunnies wore them on special straps over their backs like backpacks, skillfully woven from supple willow branches.

Caring bunny mamas, seeing their husbands or sons off to work, always tucked juicy carrot sandwiches into the baskets so the travelers could have a snack along the way.

But once (though it was a long time ago, and many have forgotten), a sweet young bunny mama decided to make a sandwich extra special and spread the bread with thick chocolate spread. And wouldn’t you know it: as the rabbit ate, a tiny bit of chocolate slipped out, slid past the fancy eggs, and melted right at the bottom of the basket.

In winter, when the work is done, Easter baskets are kept in cool storerooms. And you know, don’t you, that mice are exactly the kind of creatures who love sneaking into other people’s pantries more than anything else?

Well, one of them—known as Aunt Sharp-Tooth—crept into the bunnies’ storage. Of course, stealing from Easter bunnies was simply not done, but among mice, alas, there is always someone who thinks only of their own tummy.

With her twitching nose, Aunt Sharp-Tooth caught a marvelous, tempting scent. It was that very same chocolate spread—soaked deep into the basket’s base and foolishly thinking it would stay there forever. The mouse’s jaw dropped nearly to the floor! She flashed her fierce little teeth and took a giant bite out of the basket right near the bottom. Then another. And another.

After eating her fill, Aunt Sharp-Tooth—feeling very proud of herself and the tasty basket—waddled heavily back to her hole. But the hole in the basket remained. And no one, not a single soul in Velvet-Green Valley, knew it was there. Except, of course, for that sneaky little mouse—and she had no intention of telling anyone.

A Young Bunny Packs His Basket

Preparing for the very first mission of his life, Barnaby No. 25 set to work with extraordinary zeal. He counted all one hundred Easter eggs several times and began to pack them in. And wouldn’t you know it—of all the baskets in the storeroom, the one that ended up in his paws was the very same basket Aunt Sharp-Tooth had snacked on over the winter!

Barnaby No. 25 worked so hard that the eggs lay in a perfect circle—one next to the other, like smooth little stones on a garden path. He paused for a moment, admiring his flawless work. On top of the neat rows of eggs, he carefully placed a small parcel containing a carrot sandwich. His mother, Mama Rustle-Whisker, had made it just for him. Our hero was still quite young and not yet married (though, truth be told, he already had a sweetheart—a charming young bunny from the Twigkin clan—but that is a completely different story!).

Snapping the lid shut tight, Barnaby swung the basket straps over his shoulders. He felt very important and full of responsibility. Walking tall and steady, just as a proper Easter Bunny should, he set off toward the little village called Bluebell Town (or, as the woodland folk called it—High Roofs).

His path led across a boundless meadow where the dew had begun to silver the grass, then over an old humped bridge above a grumbling brook, and past the Great Oak, which had seen many an Easter night in its time. Barnaby No. 25 walked with his ears held high, never suspecting the dreadful disaster that awaited him at the end of the road.

Easter Eggs in the Grass

Stepping into the open, Barnaby No. 25 felt the cool night air pleasantly tickle his nose. He was a very proper young bunny, and the thought of being late seemed utterly unbearable. So, straightening his little blue jacket, Barnaby decided to pick up the pace.

And the moment he took his first truly big leap, something very unfortunate happened. One egg—the one sitting right by the gnawed edge of the hole—lost its balance, slipped through, and with a soft “thud,” landed in the thick grass.

Barnaby No. 25, alas, heard nothing. He was far too busy keeping his back straight, as a master of the Rustle-Whisker line should.

Then it was the next egg’s turn. And after that—another. And another, and another.

You see, an Easter Bunny’s leaps are incredibly long—that’s why people think they’re magicians (though the bunnies prefer to call it “professional agility”). And after every powerful hop, one more Easter egg was left behind in the grass.

Barnaby No. 25 seemed to fly over the meadow, making his splendid leaps, while behind him, in the silvery dew, he left the most astonishing trail you could imagine. First a red egg, then a green, then a yellow, then a pale blue—then red again. The trail stretched from the very edge of Velvet-Green Valley all the way across the meadow, marking every one of our hero’s bounds with bright, festive dots.

And Barnaby No. 25 went on his way, full of pride and joy. He never suspected that the basket on his back was growing lighter and lighter, or that his “secret” route could now be seen from a mile away by any curious nose out for a pre-dawn stroll.

Foxwick Sets Off for “Apples and Plums”

At that same late hour, when the shadows were at their thickest, Foxwick stepped out from his snug den. He was a dapper fox with a very confident air, and the most prized part of his wardrobe—the part he was proudest of—was his checkered trousers. His wife had sent him to the “Apples and Plums” farm, with strict orders to bring home a few eggs for the holiday table and, if luck was on his side, maybe a plump chicken or two.

As Foxwick trotted across the meadow, sniffing the wind, his eye caught something extraordinary. There in the grass lay a bright red egg. A little further—a green one. The fox, hardly believing his luck, began gathering them into his basket, muttering that this year the farmer’s hens had really outdone themselves, laying ready-made Easter eggs right in his path!

Meanwhile, Barnaby No. 25 reached the Great Oak. He was exhausted and decided a short rest was exactly what he needed. Settling comfortably on a knotted root, he reached for his mother’s sandwich. Но the moment he lifted the basket lid, the poor bunny froze with terror.

The basket was empty. Completely empty! Only at the very bottom, in the corner, two lonely eggs rolled around: one yellow and one blue. A tight knot twisted in Barnaby’s stomach. The tips of his whiskers and his ears drooped like old rags.

Barnaby No. 25 turned around and froze: across the entire meadow stretched a trail of his Easter treasures. Such a scandal had never happened to any Easter Bunny before! Forgetting his hunger, he dashed back at full speed, snatching up the lost eggs.

He ran so fast, with his nose to the ground, that he didn’t look up at all. And there, near the very start of the trail, he collided head-on with Foxwick! They had both been so busy collecting eggs, following the same path toward each other, that they only noticed one another at the exact moment of impact.

BAMMMMM!!!!

In that very second, Barnaby No. 25—driven by instinct and a massive fright (after all, he was still a bunny, even if he was an Easter one!)—shot up to the very top of the Great Oak. And Foxwick, seeing a whole flock of twinkling cartoon stars spinning around his head, toppled into the grass with his tongue hanging out.

Still, the fox soon came to his senses. Rubbing his bruised forehead and making sure to clutch the basket full of Easter eggs, he took his position directly beneath the tree. Foxwick began feverishly inventing a trick to lure his prey down—because climbing oaks, to Barnaby’s great luck, was not something foxes knew how to do.

The Siege of the Great Oak

The situation was terribly awkward. Barnaby No. 25 sat on a thin, flexible branch, his claws digging into the bark so tightly that his little paws in white holiday gloves went completely numb. Foxwick, for his part, settled below, smoothing his fluffy tail and pretending he had merely stepped out to admire the night violets.

And so they sat: one above, trembling all over; the other below, filled with patient mischief. Neither dared to leave his post.

For poor Barnaby No. 25, the minutes dragged on painfully. Worst of all, in the east beyond Velvet-Green Valley’s distant hills, a thin golden line began to show itself shyly. It was the first light of dawn—the very hour when all Easter eggs should already be safely hidden in gardens.

The bunny was in utter despair. He felt he had shamefully failed his very first and most important mission! And the head Easter Bunny, the venerable Uncle Hop-Strong, had placed such high hopes in him! Barnaby No. 25 was considered the star pupil of the Easter Bunny Academy; he could hide eggs faster than anyone and knew every rule of camouflage by heart.

“Oh, what will Uncle Hop-Strong say!” thought the wretched bunny, peering at the fox through the leaves. “What will Mother say? And how can I look my sweetheart in the eye if I come home with a leaky basket and not a single button left on my jacket?”

Meanwhile Foxwick, noticing the dawn, also began to show signs of unease. He knew that by daylight, his visit to the “Apples and Plums” farm might end with a meeting with a very angry dog named Mister Rrruff, and that thought spurred his creativity.

Wild Acrobatics in the Pre-Dawn Dark

At last, Foxwick’s patience snapped. Knowing dawn was breathing down his neck, he resorted to desperate measures. Risking the loss of his trousers at any moment, the fox unwound his long scarf, which he wore cleverly as a belt. It was a sturdy woolen scarf, knitted for him by his dear grandmother.

Making a noose at one end, Foxwick began to fling it upward like a cowboy from an old Western movie. He aimed to snag Barnaby No. 25 by the leg and drag him down into his arms (which, it must be said, promised the bunny nothing good).

The fox tossed—the bunny tucked his legs up. The fox tossed again—Barnaby hauled himself along the swaying branch, nearly losing his balance. It looked like some sort of mad morning workout!

Both had spots before their eyes from the flashing woolen loop, and their paws shook with weariness. Breathing hard, Foxwick pictured his stern wife—she would not tolerate a return without a prize. The bunny, sniffing, was mentally bidding farewell to his mother, his sweetheart, and his whole rabbit clan. Bitterly, he imagined the children of High Roofs waking up to find nothing but cold dew in their gardens instead of Easter magic.

In that moment of despair, they were almost equals: both fox and bunny were on the verge of tears as they watched the sky over Velvet-Green Valley grow inexorably pale. The scarf-lasso whistled through the air; Barnaby’s ears pressed flat to his head—it seemed this nightly battle would never end.

A Desperate Fix and a Final Farewell

And then, just as the sky over Velvet-Green Valley turned a tender rose, the distant, piercing creak of heavy doors reached the Great Oak from the “Apples and Plums” farm. A farmhand—yawning and straightening her apron—had gone to milk the cows. Right after the creak came the ringing, triumphant crow of Mister Doodle-Doo the rooster—the one who, rumor had it, pecked without warning and never tolerated strangers in his yard.

For Foxwick, it was a moment of bitter realization. He knew the hunt at the farm was over: there was absolutely nothing for him there now—unless, of course, he wanted his backside to meet a heavy farm boot or a sharp rooster’s beak.

But then—oh, joy!—in his paws, he already held an entire basket of choice Easter eggs, wrapped in fine paper marked with the seal of the Rustle-Whisker clan. Plus, the fox felt in his very bones that at any moment, like an overripe apple, a plump, frightened Easter Bunny would tumble from the branch straight into his arms. Foxwick even stopped spinning his scarf-lasso and just sat under the tree, licking his lips in eager anticipation.

Poor Barnaby No. 25 was crying openly now. Big tears fell right onto his dusty blue jacket. He knew the strict law of Velvet-Green Valley: in another half hour, no self-respecting Easter Bunny would dare to even poke his nose out of a burrow. For eggs must be delivered under the cover of darkness, while children sleep and dream of Easter treats and sweet holiday breads.

“It’s all over,” sobbed the poor fellow, clinging to the oak’s rough bark. “I shall become a legend… the saddest legend of a bunny who left the world without a holiday and became a fox’s dinner.”

Uncle Hop-Strong Follows the Trail

Among Easter Bunnies, there was one iron rule known only to trusted masters. The moment the rooster announced the dawn, the elders were to follow their pupils’ trails and make sure all was well.

Uncle Hop-Strong, head of the entire delivery service, decided to check on his favorite student in person. And though he trusted Barnaby No. 25 as much as he trusted himself, rules were rules—they were not to be broken even by the greatest leapers. Uncle Hop-Strong followed the trail almost to its end—right to that very same Great Oak.

As he approached, he noticed some large, messy-looking bird in the crown of the tree.

“What nonsense!” he thought, adjusting his gold spectacles. “If that is Chatter-Box the Magpie, she’ll blab about my rounds to all of Velvet-Green Valley, and it’ll be goodbye to our top-secret mission!”

Not wanting any chatter, Uncle Hop-Strong snapped his fingers—and in that very instant, he became completely invisible. It couldn’t have happened at a better time. Approaching the tree, he discovered Foxwick: sweating with excitement, the fox sat on the grass, and beside him, like a sleeping snake, coiled the woolen scarf-lasso.

The fox stared upward without blinking, expecting a quick meal. Uncle Hop-Strong lifted his gaze as well… and was struck speechless. There, on a thin branch, in a most improper state—his tie undone and his cheeks wet with tears—froze the academy’s star pupil, Barnaby No. 25.

The situation was unacceptable. Uncle Hop-Strong twitched an ear angrily (which, of course, no one noticed) and tightened his grip on his walking cane. He had to save the family’s reputation—and more importantly, Easter itself.

Foxwick Loses His Trousers

Uncle Hop-Strong, still invisible, tiptoed up to Foxwick. At that very moment, the fox had dreamy eyes, imagining a rabbit dinner in a sauce of woodland herbs. Suddenly, a strong invisible paw closed around the basket handle and yanked it into the air!

Foxwick was so startled—the loot was literally flying away on its own!—that he began to scramble backward, tangling himself in his own trousers. At last, with a muffled “Yelp!”, the fox bolted for his den as fast as he could. Left on the grass beneath the oak were only his checkered trousers, tattered from the nightly skirmish, and the unlucky woolen scarf-lasso knitted by his dear grandmother.

Uncle Hop-Strong became visible again. He sternly adjusted his spectacles and rapped his cane against the oak’s trunk.

“Come down, Barnaby No. 25. The sun is almost up!”

The trembling bunny climbed down. He expected a harsh scolding, but Uncle Hop-Strong only silently handed him the basket. Only then did Barnaby notice the hole in the bottom, gnawed by Aunt Sharp-Tooth.

“You see, my dear,” said Uncle Hop-Strong, as the two of them patched the hole with the fox’s woolen scarf, “one must never forget a simple rule: always check your basket before you set out.”

Meanwhile, the sun had already touched the horizon with its gentle rays… The fine town of High Peaks was, for once, left without its Easter magic.

Epilogue: A Beloved Tale for Generations

Years passed. Today, Mr. Barnaby No. 25 is a venerable bunny with silver whiskers. He has twenty-five sons and “twenty-five times twenty-five” grandchildren, and every single one of them dreams of becoming an Easter Bunny. Barnaby No. 25 now holds the honored position of Chief Keeper and Inspector of Baskets. There is no bunny more attentive than he: from that day on, not a single Easter egg has ever been lost!

Once a year, on the eve of Easter, Barnaby No. 25 takes out his old blue jacket (still missing one button) and tells this very story. The listeners pack in until the house is bursting at the seams! The little rabbits perch on wardrobes, bookshelves, and under tables, while those who can’t fit inside press their tiny noses against the windowpanes to hear every word.

Only many years later did Uncle Hop-Strong allow the true secret to be revealed: at the very end of that night, as the sun was just about to peek over the horizon, he pulled a Special Silver Whistle from his pocket. At its call, the best Easter Bunnies from the Dandelions, the Hop-Skippers, the Quick-Paws—and of course, the Rustle-Whiskers—all came running. Each one grabbed a dozen eggs and delivered them in the blink of an eye through the gardens of High Peaks. Easter was saved! And with it, the dignity of the Rustle-Whisker clan and the honor of every Easter Bunny in the world.

As for Foxwick, he had to spend three whole days wearing his wife’s striped dressing gown while she stitched him a new pair of trousers. Chatter-Box the Magpie trumpeted the news so loudly that the fox family eventually had to move away—but the legend of the “flowery robe and the lost pants” followed them wherever they went.

The moral is simple: even if your basket is full of holes and a fox blocks your path—do not despair. Easter is a time when no one is left alone, and faithful friends are always ready to lend a helping paw.

🎨Color Barnaby’s blue jacket and help him find the missing eggs!

📖 Vocabulary Fun with the Tale of Barnaby the Twenty-Fifth

Why do we do this? At ages 5–6, children are starting to discover the “flavor” of new words. When they understand what it means to be “struck speechless” or to dash “headlong,” they aren’t just following a plot—they are building imaginative thinking. These explanations turn reading the Easter Bunny story into an exciting language quest. We aren’t just expanding their vocabulary; we are teaching children to express their thoughts beautifully and confidently, setting them up for success in school.

How to use this block: Weave these explanations naturally into the story. If a word feels a bit tricky, swap it for a quick synonym or use a gesture to show the emotion. The most important thing is to keep the excitement and the fast-paced action going! Let these new words become part of your child’s world through this engaging game of Easter heroes.
Words to explain:

• Dynasty — a big, talented family where everyone has done the same important job for many, many years.
• Jacket — a fancy, dressy coat that someone wears to look their very best for a holiday.
• Scarf-belt — a long, wide piece of cloth worn around the waist to keep trousers in place.
• Zeal — when you work extra hard because you really want to do a perfect job.
• Anticipate — that excited feeling you get when you’re waiting for something wonderful (like a yummy treat!).
• Headlong — running as fast as you can, straight ahead, without stopping for anything.
• Ingenuity — being super clever and coming up with a smart, tricky way to solve a problem.
• Herald — a special sign that tells everyone something exciting is about to begin (like the first light of dawn).
• By heart — to know something so well that you remember every single word without even looking.
• Venerable — someone who is wise, grand, and very much respected by everyone in town.

Which new words did your little hero learn today? Let us know in the comments!

✨ Barnaby’s Easter Tale: Questions for Curious Minds (Ages 5–6)

The story of Barnaby No. 25 is more than just a fun adventure—it’s a wonderful way to talk to your future first-grader about responsibility, mindfulness, and the fact that even a “holey” situation always has a way out. As you follow Foxwick’s chase and Barnaby’s worries, your child learns a vital lesson: a mistake isn’t the end of the world if you are willing to fix it.

After finishing this heartwarming Easter Bunny tale, take a moment to chat. Ask how Barnaby felt up in the tree and why it’s so important to “double-check our baskets” (our tasks) before we start. This helps your child feel your support and understand that even grown-ups had to learn how to be responsible once!

Let’s Solve the Mystery (Logic & Focus)

1. Do you remember how the hole got into Barnaby’s basket? Whose “hungry” fault was it?
2. Why didn’t Barnaby hear the eggs falling out one by one into the grass?
3. How did Uncle Hop-Strong know that his favorite student needed help?

Let’s Walk in Their Paws (Emotional Intelligence)

1. How did Barnaby feel when he opened his basket by the Great Oak and saw it was empty? Have you ever felt that way when things didn’t go as planned?
2. Why did Foxwick decide to pick up the eggs in the meadow instead of going to the farm? Do you think he was being fair?
3. Why was Barnaby crying in the tree—was he more afraid of the fox, or was he ashamed to face Uncle Hop-Strong?

Imagine and Explore (Values & Creativity)

1. If you had Uncle Hop-Strong’s “Silver Whistle,” who would you call to help you during a tough time?
2. Why do you think Barnaby became the “Chief Basket Inspector” when he grew up? What was the most important lesson he learned for life?
3. Let’s pretend you are one of the helper bunnies. What color would you paint the very first egg that Barnaby lost?

Share with us in the comments: which moment of the story

made the biggest impression on your little one?

All texts have been translated by me using AI, without the help of a professional translator. I do this with love and care to share fairy tales and materials in English. There may be some inaccuracies in the translation, but every word has been created with children and parents in mind. Thank you for your understanding and enjoy reading!