The Velveteen Rabbit a personalized book with your child as the hero

Once upon a time, a velveteen rabbit was given to a small child on a bright morning. He was plump and soft, with brown and white fur, thread whiskers and pink satin lining inside his ears. The child sat on the nursery rug and held out both hands, and the rabbit was placed into them. The child hugged him, and the rabbit felt warm all the way through.

The nursery was full of toys. There were wind-up mice and painted blocks, a wooden boat and a tin trumpet. All of them were very grand and a little proud, and they talked about being new and clever. The velveteen rabbit was shy. He felt that he was only stuffed with sawdust, and he did not know what to say to them.

The oldest toy on the shelf was the Skin Horse. His coat had been worn thin by years of hands, and most of his tail had gone. The other toys hardly noticed him, but the rabbit liked his kind, tired eyes.

One afternoon, while the child napped safely on a cushion nearby, the rabbit asked him, "What is Real? Does it mean having a part that buzzes, or a handle to turn?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It is a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, who was always honest. "But when you are Real, you don't mind. Your fur may be loved off and your eyes may droop. That doesn't matter, because once you are Real you cannot be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

The rabbit sat very still and thought about it. He hoped it would happen to him, though he could not imagine how.

That night the child fell asleep with the rabbit tucked under one arm, in a bed with a patchwork quilt. After that, the rabbit went everywhere. He rode in the crook of the child's elbow and sat beside the child at every meal. He was dragged through the hall and left in the grass, and each night he was found again and carried upstairs. Slowly his fur grew rubbed, and his whiskers bent.

In summer the family went to the garden. The child sat on a blanket among the flowers and held the rabbit close. Beyond the flower bed, the rabbit saw some real rabbits. They were brown and quick, with twitching noses and strong back legs. They hopped and sniffed, and one of them looked at him.

"Come and play," it called.

The rabbit wanted to, but he could not move his legs. They were only cloth. So he stayed in the child's arms, and the wild rabbits bounded away. He felt a little sad, but the child's arms were still warm, and he was held very tightly.

Then the child became ill with a mild fever. For some days the child rested comfortably in bed with a caregiver sitting close by, and everything in the house was quiet. The rabbit was kept near, and he was glad, though he was now quite shabby.

When the child was well enough to be in the fresh air, the caregiver carried the worn rabbit out to the garden and set him gently beside a basket, among the flowers. Some of the old nursery things were being put away, since it was time for new ones, and the rabbit was left to wait.

He sat very still in the green. He thought about the child and the blanket, and about all the nights under the quilt. He was so lonely that one small tear slid down his velvet nose and fell into a flower.

Where it fell, the flower opened wide. A fairy stepped out, tiny and shining. "Little Rabbit," she said, "I look after all the toys who have been loved. You have given so much to your child that I came for you."

"But I am already Real to the child," said the rabbit.

"To the child, yes,” said the fairy. “Now you will be Real for everyone." She kissed his worn nose.

A soft light rose around him. His stitches warmed, and he felt his back legs push against the earth. He could scratch his ear with one foot, which he had never done before. The rabbit looked down and saw he was a real brown rabbit with strong paws.

He took a small, wobbly hop in the dewy grass. Then he hopped again and again, until he was leaping with joy. Two wild rabbits ran up to him, and they all went off together.

The following spring, the child sat on the garden blanket, well and rosy. A brown rabbit came out of the bushes and sat quite close, looking at the child. He had something familiar in his face, and the child gazed at him for a long while.

The rabbit's eyes were kind, and the child smiled. They seemed to say, "It's me." Then the rabbit hopped back into the flowers, and he was Real.