The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams
A conversation between 2 stuffed toys, a rabbit and a hobbyhorse:-
"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're made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves 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."
It's amazing what you can learn about life from a couple of stuffed toys. Aren't children's' books wonderful? :)
"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're made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves 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."
It's amazing what you can learn about life from a couple of stuffed toys. Aren't children's' books wonderful? :)
posted by Stingrayz | 5:16 PM
2 Comments:
Yes, children's books can be touchingly whimsical. (which is why I am still reading them, even though a number of people have been looking askance at me for doing so). And everytime I finish my old favourites, I mourn for innocence lost... Life used to be so simple back then, I can't help but feel that it can be so again, if only I can learn things that I have unlearnt.
It's very simple, Xena dear. Just like the Skin Horse said: "When you are real, you don't mind being hurt."
A lot of times, we build up a wall around ourselves, so that the bad parts of reality cannot touch us. What we don't realize is, the walls sometimes keeps the good parts out, too.
Innocence is lost, when we refuse to deal with the reality and shield ourselves from it. Innocence is lost, when in living, we have forgotten to live to our own expectations and dreams. And to keep it real.
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