My five-year-old daughter took a camping trip with her dad this weekend. They returned home early–both with colds–in part because it never stopped raining. This morning, when we searched for Chocolate Bunny, Pearl’s most treasured stuffy was nowhere to be found. Pearl tearfully remembered that she and her five-year-old friend Hawk had taken Chocolate Bunny out to play just before departure from the campground. And, yes, she thought he might have been left behind.
It was a heart-rending moment for all of us. Pearl began to weep, her grief deep and real. We went into action, calling a company in Utah that oversees the remote campground, and Michael left a message to be relayed, if possible, to the caretakers of the campground in northern New Mexico. Could they look for a little brown bunny on the rocks near campsite #36?
We’re waiting for news. In the meantime, I am reminded of the strength of yearning, and the capacity of the heart to bond deeply to something as simple as a stuffed brown bunny–and the range of emotions, conscious and unconscious, that are symbolized and expressed by that bond.