A Christmas Story
This will be an odd story to some, some will think me even stranger than they already do, but I care not.
The story has to be written.
This morning, a friend I had not seen in 60 some years was brought to my room.
He was my early childhood friend, indeed the only friend this child had.
His name was a secret, though people called him many different names.
I simply called him “Rabbit”…I did not harass him for a proper name.
He was about a foot and half tall with long white ears and a snappy blue coat and I carried him about by those ears everywhere I went….to the bath to the bed and wherever I was all the day long.
We spoke constantly…though his ears were plastic, I knew they could still hear me and, even better, understand me.
We were inseparable and the adults seemed to understand and even embrace my friend Rabbit.
All, that is, but one.
My father.
His foul moods and physical abuse would have had him locked up today, but the 60’s were a different time.
I avoided him like the plague… beatings were frequent and without reason.
One morning though I accidentally encountered him in the back yard as he was stoking a large burning barrel.
“Come here” he ordered.
I walked warily up to him clutching Rabbit as always.
With one quick motion he ripped Rabbit out of my hands and threw him in the burn barrel.
“Grow up”, my father hissed.
My world collapsed and parts of my soul melted with Rabbit.
I grew up in that moment…grew up to hate male authority figures, grew up learning never to trust anyone and to never let anyone get so close that it would hurt that bad to lose them.
I have never recovered from that moment…only learned to function somewhat normally…if you’re close to me you question my definition of “normally”…
Never recovered until this morning, that is.
I had to get up early to go to a doctors appointment and one of my housemates that knows the story came walking in with Rabbit.
It took me a second to recognize him, but I’d know that jacket anywhere.
I cried and shook for a long time…I’m doing so as I write this.
This time though, Rabbit had a young friend with him…as if to say he has always been with that little boy that loved him and always will be.
After a lifetime, Rabbit and I are back together.
Why am I telling you this?
I know Who was behind Rabbit.
He came back to tell me that all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.
He came back to remind me that love never dies, it just changes location….and one day soon, all will be in the same location.
I wonder if there was a rabbit near the manger…I know for damn sure there were cats…
Make your own application…and I hope something in you gets healed this Christmas…
Nice story,
Merry Christmas to you and Trey!!
Love this, Michael! Brought back some haunting memories for me. I never had a rabbit but I suppose my huge Bible was my rabbit. The Bible was my dad’s favorite instrument of torture and it also proved to be my deliverance.
All blessings, Phil ,from Trey and I.
Thanks, Dave!
We both made it this far…
There are so many ways to suffer. I can only believe that there are far more ways that “…all shall be well…”
Happy Christmas, Michael.
Michael,
I, too, had an unpredictable father with a nasty temper. Most of the worst of it was directed at my mother, but there were some scary moments directed at me as well. I hated him well into adulthood until, with God’s help, I was able to forgive him and re-approach him with some definite boundaries. He got the message after I left his presence during several of his tantrums. Now his dementia is so bad I doubt
he remembers any of it.
I didn’t get a rabbit, but God put several strong Christian couples in my life as a teen/young adult that taught me that not all men were scary. He also gave me a wonderful step-dad who treated me as his own. I was 18 and discovering what a healthy father relationship could be like! I’ve missed him terribly since he passed away.
Have a wonderful Christmas and enjoy your rabbits! Keep an eye on them; they’re known to multiply!
What a fantastic blessing of a story! The best of everything to you always!
My eyes are running with tears as I read this…my rabbit was my dear dog skipping
He kept me from suicide many times..
Robert F,
Merry Christmas to you, my friend.
Linn,
I’m glad you had your own “rabbits’ in your life…you turned out well.
Merry Christmas, my friend!
Thank you, Laura…every blessing to you ,my faithful friend!
Catherine,
I thank God for my cats…who I was safe to love and who loved me back.
I’m so glad you experienced a return of love to you today.
And I’m glad you cried.
Merry Christmas Eve, my friend
~ Alex
Karma and her sister Comeuppance are, and have always been back-logged…
They have soooo many visits to pay for those who hurt others…
I grew up in a violent family, too, Michael, though the dynamic of the violence was very different than in yours. My mother and father were violent toward each other, engaging in violent, loud arguments, a situation that had devolved from an earlier time before my birth when my father had been physically violent toward my mother and my siblings. By the time I was born, somehow my mother had gained the upper hand in their violent arguments, which terrified me, and she kept me away from my father, who, for his part, washed his hands of me and had little to nothing to do with me. There is a way in which I was the Rabbit, offered up by my father on the altar of appeasement to my mother’s intention to protect me by taking control of me and away from my father’s influence. I never was never beaten, not once, but nevertheless skulked quietly around like I had been every day of my life, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I carried that into adolescence and young adulthood, and it brands me to this day in my mid-60s.
Robert F,
It is terrifying how these things imprint us for life.
I (obviously) never had a relationship with my father…who ,incidentally, became a pastor.
Thus, I’ve always been chippy with clergy as well…
My prayer is that you and others can experience something of what I have in the last day or so…it’s not gone, but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.
Alex,
Much love to you and yours, my friend.
I cried quite a bit…good crying.
Michael , thank you for sharing this with us…..
Relatable to my experience with my father as well – always seemed angry , often abusive to me. There is no relationship now . As an adult I tried for several years to rebuild , but there was no change on his part. I just can’t be around or speak to “that family ” anymore .
It warms my heart to hear that rabbit was restored to you . God never forgets us….