Everyone raised his hand to pick the fruit he best liked the look of, and then everyone paused for a second. This fruit was so beautiful that each felt "It can't be meant for me . . . surely we're not allowed to pluck it." (from The Last Battle)
And even our little Easters feel like this.
Be with us through this season, Lord,
And all our earthly days
That when the final Easter dawns
We join in Heaven's praise
"When Mary Came With Rich Perfume" stanza 3