On my last day onEaster Island, I visited its post office, beautifully located on a craggy cliff. I looked at the boxes for the locals' mal and was amused to see many letters stacked on top addressed in children's handwriting to: "Easter Bunny, Easter Island, Chile." I laughed and pointed to them. The woman behind the counter asked me, "Are you the Easter Bunny?" How do you say no to that? "Yes, may I have a letter?" She laughed and handed me one, a sweet letter from a 9-year- old girl named Annie who lived in a suburb of London...  keep reading