When I was just a young girl, I remember going to visit my great, great grandmother, Anna Peterson. She had just turned 103 years old and many family members gathered to celebrate at my great Aunt Mena and Uncle Augie’s home in Marion, Indiana. She was very frail. As she sat in her wheel chair, she reached out to touch my face. Her vision and hearing were both very poor. She recognized me by touch, not sight and she called me by name. Her senses were impaired but her mind was still sharp. I’ve often pondered after seeing Grandma Peterson through my child’s eyes, whether I would want to live to be 103 as she had. But the impression she left on me was great. She knew who I was without the benefit of her senses. I was her oldest great, great grandchild and she valued me. I could feel it in her touch, gentle and kind.
When we are valued and we know it, we are changed forever. The late writer, Maya Angelou once said, “I have learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Oh, how true! What a difference it makes when a person makes you feel valued. It’s not what the other person said or did but the way in which they did it. It’s the warm smile, the attentive look, the light touch of their hand that convey that they care deeply. Their authenticity is not contrived but real. Unfortunately in the world we live in, this type of authentic caring is a rare commodity. In a self-oriented culture, it actually is surprising to see selfless acts any more. How have we wandered so far from real, genuine caring for each other?
One of my absolute favorite children’s books is, “The Velveteen Rabbit.” I don’t think I have ever finished reading that book aloud without getting teary eyed. The little stuffed rabbit loved the boy so much that his fur was rubbed off and the shine of his eyes was dulled. When the boy recovered from his illness, the dear rabbit was thrown in the fire with other items from his room. As all appeared lost, suddenly the toy rabbit was turned into a living rabbit with soft fur and a wiggly nose. His deep love, though it made him ragged, also made him “real”.
I believe the Velveteen Rabbit was real long before he became a living rabbit. We become real when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable. Authenticity forces us to let down our facade and stop worrying about our rights. “We” becomes more important than “me”. Time is spent connecting with others and in relationship. We put down our smart phones and really communicate with each other. Success is not measured by power, prestige or possessions but by the depth of our commitment and faithfulness to others.
The greatest example of what it means to be “real” was Jesus. He valued people over everything else and those he touched knew it. He had no power, prestige or possessions that would give Him worldly success. The devil tempted Him with these earthly valuables in the wilderness but He turned him away. Jesus’ eyes saw true value in people, not things. He had compassion for the widows. He loved on babies. He touched people that everyone else shunned. These were His treasures.
After Jesus’ death, Mary Magdalene and some other women came to the tomb the day after Passover to anoint His body. The stone was rolled away and His body was not there. Jesus appeared to Mary by the tomb but through her tears, she did not recognize Him but thought He was the gardener. Only when He spoke her name, did she recognize Him. I can only imagine the loving way Jesus spoke her name. The gentleness of His voice was music to her ears. Her Lord and Master had returned!
We become real by imitating Christ. As we value people as He valued them, little by little, we come to resemble Him. It can be a long process and sometimes painful. The skin horse explains how it happens to the Velveteen Rabbit.
“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s 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?”
“Sometimes.” For he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.:
“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up, or bit by bit?”
“It doesn’t happen all at once. You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or who have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.”
“But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
“The Velveteen Rabbit” by Margery Williams (1880-1944)
