In 1995 my
wife presented me with a unique gift for my 46th birthday;
…the well
known children’s book, “The Velveteen Rabbit.”
She wrote
the following inscription in the inside jacket of the little volume:
July 25th,
1995
Happy
Birthday, Ross!
When I saw
this book while shopping for a present for you, I knew this was “The Gift.”
I know this
birthday you must feel more “real” than ever before. I know it hurts deep
within to experience “being real.”
The hurt of
being real won’t last forever. God has a special revelation to explain, in
heaven, just for you; everything you’ve ever wanted to know.
Truly, I
believe you are a man after God’s own heart.
May God walk
with us every step of the way. I want to be there to see the wonderful things
God has prepared for all those who are His children.
Love you
Forever,
Your Loving
Wife
Pt. 2
Following is
a poignant excerpt from the children’s book,
“The
Velveteen Rabbit”
The Skin
Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old
that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and
most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. He
was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast
and swagger, and by and by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew
that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery
magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and
wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it.
“What is
REAL?”
asked the Rabbit
one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana
came to tidy the room.
“Does it
mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”
“Real isn’t
how you are made,” said the Skin Horse.
“It’s a
thing that happens to you. When a child love you for a long, long time, not
just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”
“Does it
hurt?” asked the Rabbit.
“Sometimes,”
said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.
“When you
are real you don’t mind being hurt.”
“Does it
happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked. “Or bit by bit?”
“It doesn’t
happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time.
That’s why it doesn’t happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges,
or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of
your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the
joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you
are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
“I suppose
you are Real?” said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he
thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive.
But the Skin
Horse only smiled.
“The Boy’s
Uncle made me Real,” he said. That was a great many years ago; but once you are
Real you can’t become unreal again. It lasts for always.”
“The
Velveteen Rabbit” by Margery Williams Blanco
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