While having a discussion this afternoon, I discovered that my oldest child had watched a video in class of the Velveteen Rabbit. This then prompted a conversation in which I sadly discovered that my youngest had never heard the story. I own the book but it stays in my own bookcase for safekeeping--instead of the case that the boys have constant access to.
Obviously, I had to remedy that problem.
During the part of the story where the rabbit gets taken out with the picture books to be burned, Matthew became outraged. "HE DOESN'T LOVE HIS RABBIT ANYMORE!" I was quick to defend the boy, making sure that my own son understood that it wasn't the boy's fault.
And, of course, when I read the very last line of the story, I had to project the words up and over the lump in my throat. It doesn't matter how many times I read that book, the last line gets me every time.
"Why, he looks just like my old Bunny that was lost when I had scarlet fever!"
But he never knew that it really was his own Bunny, come back to look at the child who had first helped him to be Real.