I find I am growing old and hope more than anything that I have made a difference in the lives of those with whom I have lived and loved.
I had a professor once who said, “When you choose to invest your life in others, it will screw up your life… but, at least your life will be interesting.”
I believe my life has been interesting.
Here is an excerpt from The Velveteen Rabbit (by Margery Williams), a wonderful children’s book about becoming real (long before Toy Story 1, 2, or 3). I like to think that as I’m getting older, I’m becoming real:
HERE was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid. He was fat and bunchy, as a rabbit should be; his coat was spotted brown and white, he had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen. On Christmas morning, when he sat wedged in the top of the Boy’s stocking, with a sprig of holly between his paws, the effect was charming.
There were other things in the stocking, nuts and oranges and a toy engine, and chocolate almonds and a clockwork mouse, but the Rabbit was quite the best of all. For at least two hours the Boy loved him, and then Aunts and Uncles came to dinner, and there was a great rustling of tissue paper and unwrapping of parcels, and in the excitement of looking at all the new presents the Velveteen Rabbit was forgotten.
For a long time he lived in the toy cupboard or on the nursery floor, and no one thought very much about him. He was naturally shy, and being only made of velveteen, some of the more expensive toys quite snubbed him. The mechanical toys were very superior, and looked down upon every one else; they were full of modern ideas, and pretended they were real. The model boat, who had lived through two seasons and lost most of his paint, caught the tone from them and never missed an opportunity of referring to his rigging in technical terms. The Rabbit could not claim to be a model of anything, for he didn’t know that real rabbits existed; he thought they were all stuffed with sawdust like himself, and he understood that sawdust was quite out-of-date and should never be mentioned in modern circles. Even Timothy, the jointed wooden lion, who was made by the disabled soldiers, and should have had broader views, put on airs and pretended he was connected with Government. Between them all the poor little Rabbit was made to feel himself very insignificant and commonplace, and the only person who was kind to him at all was the Skin Horse.
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 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.”
“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 often 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 Rabbit sighed. He thought it would be a long time before this magic called Real happened to him. He longed to become Real, to know what it felt like; and yet the idea of growing shabby and losing his eyes and whiskers was rather sad. He wished that he could become it without these uncomfortable things happening to him…
For full text and illustrations go here to Digital Library
Enjoy!
Flying Together – Our Conversations in October
We are deep into November and I am just finding time to thank those of you who made comments in October. Here are some of my favorites from among your deep comments on my shallow thoughts:
Flying Together
I knew someone who knew someone who had one [tape worm] and didn’t know it until one particularly violent sneeze and, look, there’s a worm coming out of your nose. – Lucid Lunatic (on Eat All You Want and Never Gain Weight) [my favorite comment of the month]
You are a cornball. – Amber (on Oh! The Places You’ll Go…)
OMG quite literally I think I just pulled a toe muscle from laughing so hard, dang the likeness is um shhhh please don’t tell no one! – Sanity Found (on Cookie Monster Slayer) [I promise not to tell anyone]
I know its sappy, but I liked the post. – Mondain (on 26 Reasons Why I Love my Wife)
Almost Painful
Normal is strange. I would not want to be normal. I like being me. – Brit in La (on Y B Normal)
Being normal is overrated! – Scream Riot (on Y B Normal)
That’s great! I totally have those days, and the good start makes the bad ending that much worse. – Rebecca (on How’s Your Day Going?)
Those poor lemons need a lucky rabbit’s foot. – mssc54 (on Making Lemonade)
I love to lollygag. I like to bum around even more. Yeah, I’d say I have a bit of “procrastination” in me! – Tanya[would you start a blog already?] (on A Day in the Life of a Procrastinator)
I really need to stop being so ordered in my responses (a preview of one of my quirks). – Unfinished Person (now Unfinished Rambler) (on Quirks and Addictions)
Comments are amazingly addictive. I almost feel guilty turning friends on to blogging. I kind of feel like a drug pusher. – Trish (on Quirks and Addictions)
Living Well
Thanks! I just found out I’m going to live to 102. Of course, they told me to lose weight, but really, why? So I can live to 105? I think I’ll continue to eat my cheesecake thank you very much! – Stacybuckeye (on Fifty Web Tools that Will Predict Your Future)
I only had time to complete one quiz before my boss came in! – Leaving Evangeline (on Fifty Web Tools that Will Predict Your Future)
Apparently I’ll make it into the hundreds. No thank you. I want to die before I stop being able to wipe my own butt… – Lindsey (on Fifty Web Tools that Will Predict Your Future)
Scary!
My pumpkin does not look like Einstein… It looks more like Frank-Einstein. – Daniel’s Critical Corner (on Carve Out Some Time for These Pumpkins)
Eww! That’s gross! He (?) is holding entrails in one hand. – Leaving Evangeline (on Angry Pumpkin Man)
…this takes the cake for “How you can use vegetables to Scare Kids. – Chirax (on Alien (Predator) Pumpkin)
Umm…people might wanna be careful handing out sugar-free treats. Most of them are made with a sugar substitute that acts as a laxative. – Leaving Evangeline (on Top Trick or Treat… Treats)
Just for Daisyfae
I tend to write off the musical 70’s because of disco, but Neil Young’s best stuff was buried in there – not to mention Bruce and Blondie! – Daisyfae (on Bye, Bye to the 70’s…)
Breaking Sound Barriers
The person or persons who compiled this did not grow up in the 80s. I’d wager that they are dead. – Literate Housewife (on What’s the 80’s Got to Do with It?)
Wow, what a truly bleak decade that was for the music industry. – The Word of Jeff (on Smells Like the 90’s);
I had a stuffed Rocky doll when I was a kid. That’s all I have to say. (God, I’m pathetic). – Chartroose (on Sarah and Bullwinkle are At It Again)
I was just telling my mom that I can’t bear to listen to Palin because she sounds like a kindergarten teacher. – Softdrink (on What if the Candidates were Phones?)
I am writing my choice in for that office…which is…Mighty Mouse, at least he was truthful with his motto: Here to save the day. – Lizziegram (on What if the Candidates were Phones?)
Attention!
…inspirational that is, a yoda reading and all, maybe i should pick up a book, like if yoda reads and all… – Beaverboosh (on Yoda Reads!)
Lovely bones made this list?? Geeezzz And above The Joy Luck Club? I despair! Truly… Gosh, who ever made up this list isn’t terribly well read. I just went through this list carefully. I think whoever wrote it subscribes to the Oprah Winfrey book club. YUCK! – Amber (on The Top 100 Books of the Last 25 Years)
I’m going to have to see if I can find out what criteria Entertainment Weekly set for determining this list. But, from a literary sense, I find it lacking unless the list is based on some kind of pop culture standard. – The Word of Jeff (on The Top 100 Books of the Last 25 Years)
Ritin
Hey, I duz the bestest I can with whut I learnt. – mssc54 (on Rules for Writing Wicked Good Papers)
Thank’s for them, tips I will have used them all day long or not. – Staceybuckeye (on Rules for Writing Wicked Good Papers)
Make certain all sentences are full and complete. If possible. – Hayden (on Rules for Writing Wicked Good Papers)
I don’t never use no triple negatives, and I always eschew hyperverbosity and prolixity ’cause I jest ain’t smart enuf to use dem highfalutin’ werds! – Chartroose (on Rules for Writing Wicked Good Papers)
I read and rite godder these days. – Chirax (on Writing to Intimidate)
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