My Evangeline

My+Evangeline

Most people grow up with a stuffie or an object that now reminds them of the past—a companion of sorts. Then there are others who meet their companions later on in life, who meet them at a store or at a garage sale. Whatever way they met them, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is the relationship between them. What matters is that you have a relationship as calm as a peaceful forest.

I was turning twelve, and a couple friends and I, as well as my family, went to Craig’s Cruisers to celebrate. When it was time to open my presents, my uncle gave me a medium-sized stuffed rabbit. Back then, I thought it was a childish gift and simply kept it on a shelf in my room as decoration. 

That was until one day, I had a really bad day at school. I had a test I was unprepared for, a friend I had gotten into an argument with, and I was just stressed overall. I got home that night, and while everyone was asleep, I couldn’t close my eyes because of everything that was drowning me in a sea of stress.

I was replaying the argument in my mind and trying to think of solutions while also trying to fall asleep. After it became clear I wouldn’t sleep, I was staring at the wall waiting for sleep to overcome me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the delicate bunny and grabbed it. As soon as I did, I felt an overwhelming urge to hug it, so I laid down on my bed and warily embraced the soft animal. Surprisingly to me, I felt good. Comfortable. Safe.

Ever since then, she became more than a stuffed animal to me. She was my friend. She went unnamed for an extremely long time since I couldn’t find a specific name that fit her perfectly—I refused to give her an unfit name.

She has a special spot on the corner of my small bookshelf where she sits with her new brother who is also yet to be named. He is a tiny puppy given to me by a friend from my old school as a present for no specific reason. When I need a break from life, I go to them, and we walk our way back to happiness.

It wasn’t until last year that I found an excellent name that fit her perfectly: Evangeline. Evangeline is the name of a little girl in a book I was reading. The little girl was sold away by her mother to a horrible place where she met a warm-hearted young woman who took her in. 

The little girl and the bunny have much in common, for they both have their physical imperfections, but their delightful presence has the ability to attract and assist people who need it. Evangeline is a blonde-haired girl with two scars, one on each cheek, while my Evangeline is a white, stuffed bunny with a pink bow around her neck, pink ears, and pink paws. 

My Evangeline has dirty marks from who knows where and is not as soft as you would expect a stuffed animal to be, just as one would never expect a child to have meaningful scars. Stuffed animals can be more than childhood reminiscences—they can be the source of your lack of stress.

Like Evangeline. My Evangeline.