crying real tears

this weekend at a birthday celebration for ramona, she was given the book The Velveteen Rabbit. it is a beautifully illustrated 2005 edition of the 1922 margery williams classic, and i love love love this book and the illustrations and the story. this was one of my favorites from childhood: i remember wanting real-ness for my well loved playthings, i remember being a bit frightened and sad at the story, and i remember feeling so so sorry and so so happy for the velveteen rabbit.

tonight, i read it to my own daughter for the first time. it's a long story, full of the queen's english and some confusing turns of phrase, and i thought for sure she'd lose interest. nope. she clung to every word, searched out details in every illustration. and when the bunny cries a real tear from within the dark bag of things to be burned, i cried very real tears too. by the time a beautiful fairy enters the story to turn the old, worn bunny into a real rabbit, i was sobbing. SOBB.ING. ramona looked confused when she saw my face.

i mean, come ON! look at that little bunny. he hasn't got any hind legs! it's so sad and precious!



also, upon seeing the beautiful fairy, she pointed and exclaimed, "look mommy! a nurse!" so i feel like i have now adequately done my work to solidify the magical perfection of nurses. despite my blubbering and wet tears, her claim that there is a nurse (where instead there is actually a beautiful fairy) made me laugh out loud.

anyway, she loved it, and if i can get my crying under control, we've graduated to long books for bedtime. think of the reading opportunities! good bye sandra boynton, hello roald dahl.