“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.”
― Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit
― Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit
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Meet my velveteen friend, Hamilton!
When I was just 5 years old my maternal grandparents gave me Hamilton.He didn’t have a name then.
He was very large and furry. He had two black eyes, and a realistic nose. His red tongue, made of felt, hung out of his mouth like he was ready to lick some honey.
I was in love!!!
We played for hours and hours.
He was my friend when I felt like no one else was. He loved me no matter what.
I’ve kept him all these years
-48 to be exact-
I didn’t know I was making him “Real” by loving him so much.
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Recently we have been cleaning out closets and rooms. Throwing things away and sending things to the thrift store. I came across Hamilton in the back of my closet. I thought maybe its time. I said to my darlin, should I get rid of him? He told me it was up to me and suggested that I take a picture of him. I took the picture above, and then
burst into tears. I cried so hard. I called my momma for advice. She told me, “You don’t have to get rid of him. Get rid of something that isn’t so sentimental.”
I agreed. I can’t do it, I’m not ready. I may never be ready.
And now I feel much better.
Maybe someday I can tell my grandkids about Hamilton and how “Real” he is to me.
