Once, when I was a child, my grandmother used to bring books from the small village library and read them to me before sleep.
One of my favourite stories was about a little rabbit called Fluffy Bunny.
At least… that is how I remember him.
My grandmother returned the book long ago, but the story never left her. She kept it inside her memory and told it to me again and again, in her own voice, as if she was gently re-weaving it each time.
And every night, I asked her the same thing:
“Tell me the story of Fluffy Bunny again.”
***
Fluffy Bunny woke up early one morning.
The world was soft and bright, and he decided to go outside to do his morning exercises — jumping, running, stretching his little legs, feeling the joy of a new day.
But while he was playing and moving deeper into the forest, he didn’t notice that he had wandered too far from home.
Soon he felt a little tired.
He sat down under a tree to rest.
And then — something fell on his head.
It was a nut.
He looked around, confused.
There was no one.
A moment later, another nut dropped right onto his head.
Now he was quite annoyed.
He looked up and saw a squirrel.
“Hey! Why are you throwing nuts at me?” he shouted.
But the squirrel was surprised.
“I’m not throwing anything!” she said. “They’re just falling from my paws… I didn’t mean to hit you.”
And that is how they realised it was only a misunderstanding.
***
Fluffy Bunny and the squirrel became friends.
She invited him to climb trees with her, but of course… he couldn’t. He was a rabbit, not a squirrel.
So Fluffy Bunny suggested they run together instead.
But squirrels don’t really run like rabbits either.
They are different kinds of beings, each with their own way of moving through the world.
So the squirrel had another idea.
“Let’s go to the ice,” she said. “There is a frozen lake where everyone plays in winter.”
***
When they arrived, they saw mice gliding across the ice with surprising skill, as if they had been born for it.
Fluffy Bunny and the squirrel both wanted to try.
But the moment Fluffy Bunny stepped onto the ice… he slipped and landed right on his back.
The mice burst into laughter.
The squirrel immediately spoke up:
“Don’t laugh at him! He is just learning!”
And slowly, the laughter turned into kindness.
They all helped him up.
And soon, they were all skating together — slipping, falling, laughing, and trying again.
***
When the sun began to lower in the sky, Fluffy Bunny realised it was time to go home.
His family would be worried.
He hurried back through the forest.
And on the way, he saw them already coming to meet him.
In this version of the story, they were not angry.
They were simply relieved to see him safe.
They all walked home together.
***
Fluffy Bunny was tired, but deeply happy.
At home, he told his brothers and sisters about his day — about the forest, the squirrel, the ice, the mice, and all the unexpected turns of his little adventure.
And that night, he fell asleep easily, already dreaming of another day like this one.
***
I don’t know if this story was ever written in a book exactly like this.
But I know it lived in my childhood, carried by my grandmother’s voice.
And somehow… it still lives in me.
Maybe that is why she still calls me Fluffy Bunny.
Because I grew into the rabbit who leaves the house, follows curiosity, gets lost in unexpected paths, meets the world, and always finds her way back home again.
Not everything that wanders is lost.
Sometimes it is simply learning the shape of its own life.