Keep Christmas in My Heart

My first true step to a little bit of Christmas year-round was the year I sent out this Hallmark card.  In addition to "The Velveteen Rabbit," I have a fondness for Teddy Bears.

There, tucked amid Victorian-style touches, the fuzzy sits and waits for its special child.  I liked this card so much that I framed and hung it up. What? I thought to myself, Only I will know that it's really a Christmas card.  At first glance it's a Teddy Bear and presents--- could be a birthday.

A couple of years later, I chose another Victorian-theme as my Christmas card.  I had to admit to myself, that I do try to live this very sentiment.

I do try honor Christmas in my heart.

I do try to keep it all the year.

I try to think of others.  I try to act with kindness.  I try to give without counting.  I try to like myself.  I try to love.  I try to discover joy.

I don't consistently succeed.

I get self-centered.  I speak thoughtlessly.  I hold unrealistic expectations. I turn despondent.  I become angry.  I hide from all, from myself.

But I try again.

Even Ebenezer got a fresh chance.  Every morning we get a fresh chance.

I try for Peace.  I try for Joy.  I try for Love.

Thankful

Carlos and I have been married for a year, plus a couple of weeks.

We spent today together, just us two.  It irked my mom a bit, but we wanted a quiet day of being grateful for each other.

(And since we are suffering from unplanned, horrid colds, I'm guessing everyone is thankful we're keeping it all to ourselves!)

"There once was a velveteen rabbit, ..."

and in the beginning he was really splendid."


Thus opens my favorite story of all time.  I CANNOT read it aloud, nor to myself, without crying.

Maybe "The Velveteen Rabbit" started my personal "Christmas creep." Margery Williams opens the story on on that very day:  "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."

The first time I recall hearing this story was when my mom read it to me for a bedtime story. I was maybe seven or eight-- too old and capable of a reader for a story-- but she was reading to me.  I craved the attention.  The story was included in a two-volume treasury of children's stories & verse that had been given to me by my Babchu.

I cried as she read it; I cried because the little rabbit was ignored, then he was adored; I cried because he was real, yet no one else noticed; I cried because it looked as if he was to meet his demise, but he was transformed beyond that merest of existences.

I cried because I had my own "little rabbit" who was so very shoddily loved-to-bits, and if I ever lost her, I would be devastated.

I cried because I often felt un-real.

I was teased A LOT as a kid.  Sometimes I even felt unloved.  At my lowest, an angel would remind me who did love me and would miss me.  And knowing that I was REAL at least to one, that would get me through.

In college, during another low time, Tara sent me a Christmas present from Target: a plush Velveteen Rabbit, in a stocking with a sprig of holly between his paws.  David Jorgensen's illustrated version of "The Velveteen Rabbit" had just come out in 1990, and the story was captivating a new generation of parents and kids.  But I was just a lost 20-something unsuccessfully drifting through college;  Tara was just one of my best friends who wanted me to know I was loved and missed--- here's a cute from our favorite department store!

Oh, how cute he was!  When I was shopping at the Hallmark in downtown Auburn, I noticed that another artist, "Flavia" had her own take on the tale.  I bought her book, and an ornament of the rabbit wrapped in a quilt, the base stating, "Love makes you Real."

That's how it started.  I thumbed through bargain racks and used selections.  I found that many people had illustrated the story over the years.  Sometimes they edited it for younger readers.  Sometimes they updated the setting for the times.  Always, the message of the Skin Horse was the same.  Always, the little rabbit looked so eager to share love.

I collect versions of "The Velveteen Rabbit."  I find them "in the wild" to bring home.  (Again, none of this scrolling through eBay for me.)   I have 25 different printings of the story, a few A/V versions, three plush (not including my precious rabbit,) three figurines, and an assortment of ephemera-- the newest being programs and photos from Academy of Academics and Art's own version of "The Velveteen Rabbit."  (Wish I had a show shirt.)

"The Velveteen Rabbit" remind me that love does make us real.  At Christmastime, we Christians are reminded that Love Became Man, and real like us.