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Excerpted Inspirations #189

  • Writer: Linda Odhner, with photos by Liz Kufs
    Linda Odhner, with photos by Liz Kufs
  • Jul 28
  • 0 min read
[A little rabbit tells Billy and Polly the story of a rabbit long ago in India who, when all the animals vowed to share their food with the starving people, had nothing to offer that they could eat, and resolved to give the greatest gift of all.] “At this moment one of the gods in the sky, Sakra, found that his golden throne was getting very hot. That always happened when something noble or wonderful was taking place in the world below. So he came down to see what it was. He didn’t keep his own form of the mighty god which bids the thunder roll and the lightning flash. He changed himself into an old pilgrim and walked, with his robe in tatters, and his step slow and painful, through the forest where the rabbit and his friends lived. “Soon he met the otter running beside the stream with a fish in its mouth. He dropped it at the pilgrim’s feet, but the god shook his head. ‘Take it to one who is needier than I,’ he said. Then he met a jackal with a piece of meat in his jaws. That little animal also offered its food to the pilgrim, but when that aged man refused it the jackal scampered away to find another guest. “The monkey climbed down a tree, a golden orange in each outstretched paw; but the pilgrim refused again and the monkey walked slowly away, wondering how any one, man or beast, could refuse a juicy orange. “Last of all the god met the bunny, and that was the animal he was looking for. “The bunny’s eyes were dark and bright, and he was hopping along in great excitement. “ ‘Pilgrim,’ he cried, ‘to-day I will give thee such a gift as I never gave before! Gather wood, build a fire, and tell me when it is ready.’ “He scampered off between the trees while Sakra made a fire, and when the first blaze had died down and it was like red hot coals, he called, ‘Rabbit, the fire is ready to cook your offering. Hurry, my friend, for I am starving!’ “There was a rustling among the leaves as the bunny came scampering back. He took one look at the glowing coals and then sprang upon them, as joyfully, the old tale says, as a royal swan alighting upon a bed of water lilies. That was his offering, his best gift – himself! “But a strange thing happened! The fire did not burn him, the red hot wood was as cool as the air above the clouds. ‘What does this mean?’ cried the rabbit. ‘Why does the fire not cook me into a feast of which you can eat?’ “The pilgrim threw off his ragged cloak; his grey locks turned to lightning and his voice rolled like thunder. ‘I am Sakra,’ he said, ‘and I came down from my golden throne to test you, to see if you were really ready to give yourself to feed a stranger. And now, little rabbit, may your generosity be remembered by all men until the end of the world!’ As Sakra spoke the moon was rising, round and silver, above the tree tops. The god picked up a neighboring mountain in his hand and squeezed it until it was nothing but black ink. Then, holding the bunny under his arm, he drew a picture of the little animal upon the face of the moon. “ ‘When men see that,’ he cried, ‘they shall remember that a small rabbit was ready to give joyfully the greatest gift an animal, a man, or a god can give – himself!’ ” Mary Stewart, “The Rabbit’s Gift” in The Way to Wonderland (1917), pp. 147-150

 
 
 

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