Bunny opened her eyes and looked about her room. The tall white walls were adorned with pictures, some with golden
frames and others simple pieces of paper with paint brush strokes and finger swirls. Bunny liked the painted papers best
because they were created by the little girl who loved her dearly.
Bunny continued to scan the room. From her warm soft place on the kitty pillow, Bunny could view the street below the big
windows and see the bare trees and the snow as it fell softly onto the parked cars.
Bunny could hear the house come to life around her. Down one floor, in the kitchen, the hum of the microwave and sputtering of the coffee machine meant the little girl’s momma was getting breakfast ready. Just next door, Bunny could hear the little girl’s brother playing with his cars. She could hear the
clink of metal on metal, and the vrooming and puttering he muttered as he played.
But where was her little girl?
Bunny looked around the room and saw it was empty. Suddenly she heard giggles and squealing from across the hallway. Oh yes - her little girl was awake all right and in the
middle of a tickle fight with her dada.
“Peter! Camille! Breakfast is ready.”
Bunny could hear thumping - footsteps going down the stair as Peter ran for his food, a loud bump as Camille jumped off the bed in the other room, and the rhythmic clunk of dada’s
heels as he walked down the hall. Camille burst through the doorway and grabbed Bunny. Tucking her unceremoniously under her arm, Camille said, “Come on Bunny. We’re going
skiing.”
Bunny shuddered with trepidation. Just last week, the children had started ski lessons and Bunny had gone along. In the car, her little girl had held her tight. Bunny had looked out the
window all the way to the mountains. At first, she saw the tall buildings and heard sirens, but then there was only sky, with hints of pink as the sun began to rise. As Bunny continued to
watch, the mountains came into view. The tops were covered with snow, and clouds flitted between the peaks. Bunny loved going to the mountains in the summer when the dark grey of the rock blended into the green of the forest below. But the snow was spectacular!
When they had arrived at the ski hill, there was great commotion as skis and poles and toques and mitts and goggles were found and distributed and put on. Once the children were ready, Camille grabbed Bunny from the warmth of the car and trudged through the snow, with Bunny trailing in the cold white crystals.
When they arrived at their lessons, Camille ran over to a group of kids standing and stomping in the snow. But Bunny was suddenly tossed into a backpack, where she shivered in the cold darkness, waiting for Camille to come back.
Bunny had heard some of the lesson while she waited in the frosty stillness. Mostly she heard talking and giggling. Sometimes she heard snow-crunching footsteps. Sometimes
she heard the swishing of skis on the snow. And then there was a thump when someone fell. Thumps were sometimes accompanied by a cry or a wail, and they were always followed
by an older soothing voice.
Bunny knew when the lesson was over because that was when the little girl cried and Bunny was thrust into Camille’s arms to soothe her. All the way home, Bunny stayed clutched in the little girl’s embrace, just where Bunny liked to be.
Bunny was looking forward to the ride out to the mountains, but she was not looking forward to shivering in the cold again, while she waited for Camille. Just like last time, Bunny stayed
cuddled with the little girl as they traveled once again toward the snow-covered peaks. Just like last time, there was a flurry of excitement as the children got ready for their lessons. And
just like last time, Bunny was dragged along to where the lessons began. Only this time, her little girl clung to her, refusing to let go of Bunny.
“Camille, let’s leave Bunny here so she doesn’t get lost.”
“But Momma! I can’t ski today without my Bunny.”
“Camille, you can’t hold Bunny while you ski.”
“But, Dada! I need my Bunny!”
While Momma and Dada huddled and whispered and pointed and whispered some more, Camille rubbed Bunny on her cheek and looked around at the other kids. Camille
wanted to be with the kids, and Bunny wanted to be with Camille. Then Camille had an idea.
Camille unzipped her ski jacket, just enough to stuff Bunny inside. Then she slowly pulled up the zipper until only Bunny’s head could be seen above the quilted pink of the coat. Bunny
could hear Camille’s heart pounding and feel the warmth of her body.
And before you could say snowflakes, Camille joined her friends with Bunny along for the ride.
At first, Bunny thought skiing was fun. What’s not to like? The sun shone onto the snow, turning the crystals into a million glittering diamonds. The blue sky peeked out from behind
the majestic mountains, with an occasional cloud drifting through. And all around them, spruce trees and pine sprang up from the piles of shimmering white snow.
At first, Bunny thought the giggling friends were fun, too. What’s not to like? Each of the skiers wore parts of the rainbow, with red mittens, and orange goggles, and yellow hats, and green gloves, and blue ski pants and purple jackets. One by one the skiers turned and swooshed and fell and laughed and slid. And all the time, they talked about
swimming and ballet and purses and cartoons and toys.
As the lesson wore on, Bunny noticed that Camille was hot and starting to sweat, and Bunny was starting to feel wet. Bunny’s head, hanging out of Camille’s jacket, was getting cold. The refreshing breeze didn’t feel refreshing any longer. And whenever Camille fell down, which she sometimes did just for fun, snow would fly up on Bunny’s face. And to make matters worse, the giggling friends kept trying to pull Bunny out of Camille’s jacket. Bunny’s head hurt from the cold and pulling and loud laughter.
Just when Bunny thought she couldn’t stand it any longer, the lesson was over, and Momma and Dada arrived with Peter.
“Let’s go, Camille, and see what you’ve learned in your lessons. We’re all going skiing together now.”
Oh, no! Bunny thought. Not more skiing!
After slip-sliding along together, they came to a moving machine. Dada plopped down on a seat and put Camille beside him. Bunny could feel the bench sway and tip, rocking back
and forth. Camille cuddled close to her Dada but Bunny could see the ground move farther and farther away as they lifted up toward the sky. From her perch inside Camille’s jacket, Bunny could see people flying down the slopes of snow, weaving in and out of the trees, sprays of snow thrown into the air behind them. Bunny could see beyond one mountain, where others formed a solid wall of white-topped grey peaks. The mountains didn’t seem as big from up there on the swaying bench but the silent sentinels stretched into the distance.
Bunny could hear muffled voices and feel the breeze wrap around them as the bench slowly swayed in the crisp air. Bunny felt the peaceful wonder of the beauty around her and
decided that skiing was okay after all.
Suddenly, Dada wiggled Camille in front of him and leapt off of the moving seat. He clipped a belt around Camille’s waist and slowly father and daughter moved together, their skis
squeaking on the snow, as they turned and plowed and slid and giggled all the way to the bottom.
Camille unzipped her coat, pulled Bunny out and gave her a big kiss and hug before tucking her gently back inside.
“What’s that all about, Camille?” Dada asked.
The little girl sighed. “I just love my ski bunny.”
And Bunny smiled.
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