There once was a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid. He was fat and bunchy, as a rabbit should be; his coat was spotted brown and white, he had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen. On Christmas morning, when he sat wedged in the top of the Boy’s stocking, with a sprig of holly between his paws, the effect was charming.

V Rabbit

I don’t know how I came to regard this book with such a sense of wonder. Perhaps because I’m the type who doesn’t just read stories–I live them. Perhaps this one had just enough fiction in its reality, with a rabbit who is alive inside of his cotton-stuffed skin, and a decent sense of wonder himself, that I recognized a kindred soul on the pages. More >