The Velveteen Rabbit
The Velveteen Rabbit — an illustrated literature story. 10 illustrated pages, free to read on Wonder Novels.
Page 1
Once there was a Velveteen Rabbit, and in the beginning, he was very grand. He was plump and soft, made of brown-and-white velveteen, with real thread whiskers and ears lined with pink sateen. It was Christmas morning, and he arrived in the Boy’s stocking, along with a toy engine, a shiny tin robot, and a clockwork mouse. The nursery was full of new things, bright and noisy. The Boy, busy with his other gifts, admired the Rabbit for a moment, then set him down and turned to the louder, flashier toys. The Velveteen Rabbit found himself tucked into a corner, feeling a little lonely amidst the festive clutter, wondering what his future would hold. He watched the Boy play, his bead eyes shining with quiet hope.
Page 2
After a time, when the Velveteen Rabbit was no longer new, he was moved to an old toy cupboard. This was not as grand as the Boy’s bed, but at least he was with other toys who knew what it was like to be less important. There, he met the Skin Horse, who was so old that his brown leather was worn smooth and nearly bald in places, and his tail was quite gone. The Skin Horse had seen many generations of toys come and go, watching them loved and then forgotten. The Velveteen Rabbit, still new to the ways of the nursery, asked him a very important question: what did it truly mean to be Real? The Skin Horse looked at him with his wise old eyes, deep with understanding, and began to explain the deepest secret of all, about how a toy becomes truly alive not by how it is made, but by how much it is loved.
Page 3
One evening, the Boy’s Nanny was in a great hurry. She couldn’t find the Dog, who was the Boy’s usual bedtime companion, and bedtime could not wait. So, she looked around the nursery, her eyes quickly landing on the Velveteen Rabbit. "Here!" she said, picking him up by one ear, without much gentleness. "You'll have to do!" She carried him off to the Boy’s bed. The Boy, sleepily reaching out, hugged the Rabbit close, and that was the beginning of everything. From then on, the Velveteen Rabbit slept in the Boy’s bed every single night. He was squeezed and snuggled, kissed and carried, his soft velveteen fur growing softer and shabbier from all the love. He didn't care about his fading looks; he was happy, for he was truly loved, and he was beginning to feel very Real indeed.
Page 4
The summer days were long and glorious, full of sunshine and warmth. The Boy and the Velveteen Rabbit had many wonderful adventures together in the sprawling garden that seemed to stretch on forever. They explored hidden paths among the tall flowerbeds, built great castles and secret forts under the thick rhododendron bushes, and sailed imaginary ships on the dew-wet grass in the mornings. The Rabbit, no longer plump and stiff, was now thin and shapeless from all the squeezing and cuddling. His brown spots of velveteen were rubbed off in places, his seams were loose, and his pink nose was quite bare. But he never minded these changes. The Boy loved him just the same, and to be loved truly, with all a child’s heart, made a toy Real. He felt the pure joy of the sun on his fur and the wind in his floppy ears, truly believing in their shared games and grand adventures.
Page 5
Then, one day, the Boy grew very ill. He lay in bed for many weeks, pale and feverish, his little body weak. The Velveteen Rabbit never left his side during this time of sickness. He lay faithfully beside the Boy on the pillow, or tucked safely under his arm, listening to his quiet, shallow breathing day and night. The other toys were carefully put away, but the Rabbit was too precious, too necessary a comfort, to be moved. Day and night, he stayed, a silent, unwavering companion. He was by now very shabby indeed, nearly all his velveteen gone, his whiskers pulled out, and his ears flopping softly against his head. But the Boy loved him still, perhaps even more so, in his weakness. The Rabbit felt a deep sense of purpose, hoping his constant presence would somehow help his dear friend get better.
Page 6
At last, the Boy began to get better. His fever broke, and he was able to leave his bed, weak but recovering. But then came a terrible, heart-wrenching day for the Velveteen Rabbit. The doctor declared that everything the Boy had played with during his long illness, including all his books and his beloved toys, must be carefully removed and discarded. This was to make absolutely sure no sickness remained in the house and could not spread. Nana came into the room, briskly gathering items with an air of practical efficiency. She picked up the Velveteen Rabbit, who was by now just a little shapeless bundle of old velvet, and with a quick, unthinking toss, dropped him into a sack along with some old picture books and worn-out games. The Rabbit felt a crushing despair, a deep sense of betrayal. He was being thrown away, just when he had truly become Real for the Boy. His heart, if a toy could have one, felt utterly broken.
Page 7
The sack was carried out into the garden, beyond the tidy flowerbeds and green lawns, and unceremoniously emptied onto a rubbish heap. This desolate pile was tucked away behind an old, gnarled apple tree at the far edge of the property. The Velveteen Rabbit tumbled out onto a heap of old broken crockery, faded cardboard boxes, and dead leaves, landing with a soft, forgotten thud. He lay there, utterly alone, feeling more desolate and abandoned than he ever had before in his short life. The Boy was gone, his warm home was gone, and he was just a discarded toy, an unwanted thing. He thought about the Skin Horse’s wise words, about how true love made you Real. Was he still Real, now that the Boy didn’t need him and had thrown him away? A single, glistening, real tear, a tear of true and deep sorrow, trickled slowly down his little velveteen nose, catching the dimming light.
Page 8
As the Velveteen Rabbit’s real tear fell, it landed in a small, dew-filled cup-shaped flower growing bravely in the grass near the rubbish heap. And then, a truly wonderful and magical thing happened, right before his very eyes. The tiny flower glowed with a soft, ethereal light, growing brighter and brighter, and from its depths stepped a tiny, beautiful creature. It was the Nursery Magic Fairy, with delicate, gossamer wings like a butterfly’s, shimmering with every movement. She looked at the Velveteen Rabbit with kind, knowing eyes, radiating warmth and understanding. The Rabbit, stunned and still, had never seen anything so lovely or so filled with magic. The Fairy explained that she was the one who came to all the toys who had been truly loved and had grown Real, to take them to a special place where they could be Real for always, forever free.
Page 9
The Fairy gently picked up the Velveteen Rabbit, cradling him carefully in her shining arms. She carried him swiftly through the air, over the garden wall, and into the quiet calm of the deep woods, where the air was fresh and green. They landed softly in a sunlit clearing where several small, agile wild rabbits were hopping and playing among the ferns and wildflowers. The Velveteen Rabbit watched them with longing, wishing with all his heart that he could be like them, free and truly alive. The Fairy bent down and kissed him on his worn velveteen nose, and as she did, a magical change swept over him. His shabby, threadbare fur disappeared. His dull glass eyes turned bright and brown, his ears grew long and twitching, and he felt a thrilling surge of life and warmth within him. He was a real rabbit, sleek and brown, able to twitch his nose, wiggle his whiskers, and dig his feet into the soft earth.
Page 10
Many years passed peacefully in the green countryside. The Boy, now a little older, taller, and stronger, was out walking in the green meadow that bordered the deep, quiet woods. He paused to watch a beautiful wild rabbit sitting quietly among the buttercups, twitching his nose and nibbling the sweet grass. As the rabbit turned its head, its bright, alert eyes met the Boy's for a fleeting moment, then it hopped gracefully away into the shadows of the trees. The Boy felt a strange, warm feeling, a memory stirring deep inside him. It was a faint, faraway feeling, but it brought with it a warmth and a longing for something lost and deeply cherished. He never knew that it was his own Velveteen Rabbit, come back to look at the child who had helped him to be Real, now living happily and freely in the wild, Real at last, for always.
About this story
- Audience: kids (ages 6–12)
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