Pink Rabbit

I just LOVED hearing this story from Pam’s “Book About Me”.
I’m glad she agreed to me sharing it here.  I think you’ll enjoy it too.
pink rabbit
Pink Rabbit
I don’t know how old I was when I got my fluffy pink rabbit but it could have been when we were still on the farm up Saddle Road, and it probably travelled with me to Ohakune. It was the first toy that I loved enough to remember. And love it I did. Under its belly was a key. When I wound it up, it plunked out Brahms’s Lullaby. To this day I love this classical tune, and hum it whenever I can for my grandchildren. Does it have any words? I think it’s just a musical piece. Designed for kids, loved by this kid. When Pink Bunny was about three or four years old (I don’t really know) I wound it up and it didn’t play. I tried to unwind it but that just unwound the key. It was stuck fully wound and stayed that way. I asked Mum if she could fix it but she couldn’t. I was devastated, but I kept my silent pink bunny regardless. I must have asked Mum again some time later if she could get someone else to fix it and she told me that Dad had tried everywhere to see if anyone could fix it but it wasn’t fixable. They even tried to get a new one for me, but couldn’t. I could sense her truth that they were really heartbroken for me and that helped me to accept it. Sometime later, I decided to give the pink rabbit a haircut. I got a pair of scissors and snipped off all the longer hairs. It wasn’t my best work to say the least. In fact, it made poor old rabbit quite ugly in my eyes and I regretted cutting its hair. I never felt the same for it after that. My sister Michele would have loved it more but for me it was the end of a beautiful relationship.


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