How People Become Real

In my last post I alluded to my non-memory of watching the movie "Bambi" as a child.  The same goes for watching (or reading) Pinocchio.  It's fortunate that Wilson-Hartgrove gives such a thorough description of that story, because otherwise I would have been confused.  While I don't remember watching Pinocchio, I do remember another story where a character must work to "become real".  The Velveteen Rabbit, anyone?  For anyone not familiar with the story, here's a synopsis.  But seriously, go read it.

One of the important characters in The Velveteen Rabbit is the wise, old Skin Horse.  He is shabby, missing most of the hairs from his tail because they have been plucked out.  Compared to the shiny new toys, with mechanical parts or glossy fur and shiny eyes, he looks pretty sad.  But as he tells the rabbit, his threadbare coat does not matter, because he is real.
"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."
While we may not be toys, there are plenty of parallels between this story and Wilson-Hartgrove's chapter.  We try to gain power, status, and a sense of belonging from material wealth, but ultimately chasing money won't help us.  We could spend our whole lives trying to be like the shiny mechanical toys, who "arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away".

Or, we could try for real.  It isn't as flashy, and certainly doesn't make us feel powerful, but God doesn't seem to care about those things anyway.  What if we put the time we spend in seeking after money into seeking after God?  I know I'm horribly guilty of spending my time trying to be shiny, so I wonder what it would be like to try out "shabby" for a while.  As the story continues, we see that this "real" business isn't a one-time thing.

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or 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."  I'm not suggesting we fall into romanticizing poverty; as Wilson-Hartgrove mentioned, this is just a different way of allowing money to rule us.  But what if our possessions, no matter how many or few there may be, made no difference to us?  What if they weren't important?  Could we finally allow God's love to make us real?

At the end of the story, the rabbit does become real.  He is worn out, shabby, and has even been contaminated by disease; he is taken away with the trash because to most people, he is as unattractive as they come.  To the boy, though, he is worthy of love, and that love is enough to make him more real than he could ever have been with clockwork parts.

If a toy made out of velveteen and stuffed with sawdust can become a real rabbit, can't we do the same and become the real people God wants us to be?

I think this might have strayed from the topic...and there were a lot of other things I wanted to talk about from this chapter.  There may be a part two at some point.

(Note: quotes are from  The Velveteen Rabbit or How Toys Become Real by Margery Williams.  Illustration is by William Nicholson)