Once upon a time in a large forest there lived a very furry bunny. He had
one lop ear, a tiny black nose, and unusually shiny eyes. His name was
Barrington was not really a very handsome bunny. He was brown and
speckled and his ears didn't stand up right. But he could hop, and he was,
as I have said, very furry.
In a way, winter is fun for bunnies. After all, it gives them an
opportunity to hop in the snow and then turn around to see where they have
hopped. So, in a way, winter was fun for Barrington.
But in another way winter made Barrington sad. For, you see, winter
marked the time where all of the animal families got together in their cozy
homes to celebrate Christmas. He could hop, and he was very furry. But as
far as Barrington knew, he was the only bunny in the forest.
When Christmas Eve finally came, Barrington did not feel like going home
all by himself. So he decided he would hop for awhile in the clearing at the
center of the forest.
Hop. Hop. Hippity-hop. Barrington made tracks in the fresh snow.
Hop. Hop. Hippity-hop. Then he cocked his head and looked back at the
wonderful designs he had made.
"Bunnies," he thought to himself, "can hop. And they are very warm, too,
because of how furry they are."
(But Barrington didn't really know whether or not this was true of all
bunnies, since he had never met another bunny.)
When it got too dark to see the tracks he was making, Barrington made up
his mind to go home.
On his way, however, he passed a large oak tree. High in the branches
there was a great deal of excited chattering going on. Barrington looked up.
It was a squirrel family! What a marvelous time they seemed to be having.
"Hello, up there," called Barrington.
"Hello, down there," came the reply.
"Having a Christmas party?" asked Barrington.
"Oh, yes!" answered the squirrels. "It's Christmas Eve. Everybody is
having a Christmas party!"
"May I come to your party?" said Barrington softly.
"Are you a squirrel?"
"What are you, then?"
"Well, how can you come to the party if you're a bunny? Bunnies can't
"That's true," said Barrington thoughtfully. "But I can hop and I'm very
furry and warm."
"We're sorry," called the squirrels. "We don't know anything about
hopping and being furry, but we do know that in order to come to our house
you have to be able to climb trees."
"Oh, well," said Barrington. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," chattered the squirrels.
And the unfortunate bunny hopped off toward his tiny house.
It was beginning to snow when Barrington reached the river. Near the
river bank was a wonderfully constructed house of sticks and mud. Inside
there was singing.
"It's the beavers," thought Barrington. "Maybe they will let me come to
And so he knocked on the door.
"Who's out there?" called a voice.
"Barrington Bunny," he replied.
There was a long pause and then a shiny beaver head broke the water.
"Hello, Barrington," said the beaver.
"May I come to your Christmas party?" asked Barrington.
The beaver thought for awhile and then he said, "I suppose so. Do you
know how to swim?"
"No," said Barrington, "but I can hop and I am very furry and warm."
"Sorry," said the beaver. "I don't know anything about hopping and being
furry, but I do know that in order to come to our house you have to be able
"Oh, well," Barrington muttered, his eyes filling with tears. "I suppose
that's true-Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," called the beaver. And he disappeared beneath the
surface of the water.
Even as furry as he was, Barrington was starting to get cold. And the
snow was falling so hard that his tiny, bunny eyes could scarcely see what
was ahead of him.
He was almost home, however, when he heard the excited squeaking of field
mice beneath the ground.
"It's a party," thought Barrington. And suddenly he blurted out through
his tears, "Hello, field mice. This is Barrington Bunny. May I come to your
But the wind was howling so loudly and Barrington was sobbing so much
that no one heard him.
And when there was no response at all, Barrington just sat down in the
snow and began to cry with all his might.
"Bunnies," he thought, aren't any good to anyone. What good is it to be
furry and to be able to hop if you don't have any family on Christmas Eve?"
Barrington cried and cried. When he stopped crying he began to bite on
his bunny's foot, but he did not move from where he was sitting in the snow.
Suddenly, Barrington was aware he was not alone. He looked up and
strained his shiny eyes to see who was there.
To his surprise he saw a great silver wolf. The wolf was large and strong
and his eyes flashed fire. He was the most beautiful animal Barrington had
For a long time the silver wolf didn't say anything at all. He just stood
there and looked at Barrington with those terrible eyes.
Then slowly and deliberately the wolf spoke. "Barrington," he asked in a
gentle voice, "why are you sitting in the snow?"
"Because it's Christmas Eve," said Barrington, "and I don't have any
family, and bunnies aren't any good to anyone."
"Bunnies are, too, good," said the wolf. "Bunnies can hop and they are
"What good is that?" Barrington sniffed.
"It is very good indeed," the wolf went on, "because it is a gift that
bunnies are given, a free gift with no strings attached. And every gift that
is given to anyone is given for a reason. Someday you will see why it is
good to hop and to be warm and furry."
"But it's Christmas," moaned Barrington, "and I'm all alone. I don't have
any family at all."
"Of course you do," replied the great silver wolf. "All of the animals in
the forest are your family."
And then the wolf disappeared. He simply wasn't there. Barrington had
only blinked his eyes, and when he looked-the wolf was gone.
"All of the animals in the forest are my family," thought Barrington.
"It's good to be a bunny. Bunnies can hop. That's a gift." And then he said
it again. "A gift. A free gift."
On in the night Barrington worked. First he found the best stick he
could. (And that was difficult because of the snow.)
Then hop. Hop. Hippity-hop. To beaver's house. He left the stick just
outside the door. With a note on it that read: "Here is a good stick for
your house. It is a gift. A free gift. No strings attached. Signed, a member
of your family."
"It is a good thing that I can hop, he thought, "because the snow is very
Then Barrington dug and dug. Soon he had gathered together enough dead
leaves and grass to make the squirrels' nest warmer. Hop. Hop. Hippity-hop.
He laid the grass and leaves just under the large oak tree and attached
this message: "A gift. A free gift. From a member of your family."
It was late when Barrington finally started home. And what made things
worse was that he knew a blizzard was beginning.
Hop. Hop. Hippity-hop.
Soon poor Barrington was lost. The wind howled furiously, and it was
very, very cold. "It certainly is cold," he said out loud. "It's a good
thing I'm so furry. But if I don't find my way home pretty soon I might
Squeak. Squeak. . . .
And then he saw it-a baby field mouse lost in the snow. And the little
mouse was crying.
"Hello, little mouse," Barrington called.
"Don't cry. I'll be right there." Hippity-hop, and Barrington was beside
the tiny mouse.
"I'm lost," sobbed the little fellow. "I'll never find my way home, and I
know I'm going to freeze."
"You won't freeze," said Barrington. "I'm a bunny and bunnies are very
furry and warm. You stay right where you are and I'll cover you up."
Barrington lay on top of the little mouse and hugged him tight. The tiny
fellow felt himself surrounded by warm fur. He cried for awhile but soon,
snug and warm, he fell asleep.
Barrington had only two thoughts that long, cold night. First he thought,
"It's good to be a bunny. Bunnies are very furry and warm." And then, when
he felt the heart of the tiny mouse beating regularly, he thought, "All the
animals in the forest are my family."
Next morning, the field mice found their little boy, asleep in the snow,
warm and snug beneath the furry carcass of a dead bunny. Their relief and
excitement was so great that they didn't even think to question where the
bunny had come from.
And as for the beavers and the squirrels, they still wonder which member of
their family left the little gift for them that Christmas Eve.
After the field mice had left, Barrington's frozen body simply lay in the
snow. There was no sound except that of the howling wind. And no one
anywhere in the forest noticed the great silver wolf who came to stand
beside that brown, lop-eared carcass.
But the wolf did come.
And he stood there.
Without moving or saying a word.
All Christmas Day.
Until it was night.
And then he disappeared into the forest.