Along a lonely road lay a lonely stuffed toy. She was terribly lonely because she used to have a lovely little home out in the country, but now she was laid down low and forgotten on a friendless little stretch of pavement. In better times, she would spend her days in a windowsill, soaking in the warm sunshine and looking out at the vibrant scenes of life before her. There were flowers and fruit trees; and grassy hills where passing sheep could graze; and she revelled at the sight of her special little boy who would romp and jump and skip around outdoors to his amusement and to hers.
The tiny and fluffy stuffed rabbit had seen better days. She used to have golden brown fur that curled all around her tiny body. Now it was matted down and covered in a number of stains. Remnants of things people had dropped on her by accident or that she had collected along her journey to being wholly forgotten. Remnants of her past. And as she watched people walking by her lonely little section of sidewalk, she longed for the days when she would watch her little person, her favorite boy, run joyfully with the promises of life. She pined for the bedtime stories he would read with her, for the games he would play with her at the center of all the fun.
And the lonely little stuffed rabbit began to cry. To weep for days that were now gone. And then—someone.
She met eyes with another lonesome spirit who happened to be trudging by, following along behind his distracted parents. When she saw the gaze he laid upon her, she knew. She could feel it all along her matted fur, all the way down to the heart she knew wasn’t physically there but was still ever present. He was in need of love, and it looked as if he knew she was in need of it too. Darting eyes towards the retreating figures of his parents, the boy quickly made his way to the tiny stuffed rabbit that was awfully lonesome and had not felt love for far too long.
He promptly picked her up, dusted her off and looked her over in a way that made her feel he was calculating how to help rather than passing judgement. And before he’d even gotten all of the dust and grime off of her neglected fur, he met eyes with her once again and hugged her close to his breast. And he rocked her from side to side and said, “It’s okay little rabby. I’ve found you now. And I’ll take you home with me.”
And if the boy had looked at that little rabbit as he said those words, he would have seen one glistening tear roll down her cheek. And a smile beginning to break through all the loneliness that had once been there.