The little boy was lying nestled in the plush grass while the sun’s rays dotted his skin through the canopy of oversized wildflowers. Somewhere nearby, he could hear the rushing sound of a waterfall, and the breeze lightly smelled of mint.

 

“You’re back,” a soft voice uttered somewhere beside the little boy.

 

“I am,” the little boy replied as he turned his head to find a speckled brown-gray rabbit.

 

The rabbit moved closer to nuzzle the little boy’s cheek and said, “We missed you.” The wildflowers above swayed in agreement. The little boy smiled while he affectionately rubbed the rabbit’s fur.

 

“I’ve missed you all, too.”

 

“What brings you back?” asked the rabbit as it also lay down in the grass.

 

The little boy spoke in a way wiser beyond his years, yet still imbued with childish innocence. “I need to make a change, but I don’t know if I can do it. This garden has always been a safe place for me to think and feel.”

 

One of the wildflowers reacted by bending down and inserting itself behind the little boy’s head, acting as a comforting cushion. The nearby waterfall changed its tune from rushing to a soothing chiming sound. The rabbit rested one of its feet on the little boy’s arm before it spoke.

 

“My dear boy, this safe place exists because of you. You gave life to every plant and creature here—even the waterfall. If you can do that, you can do anything.”

 

Tears started to well up in the little boy’s eyes, and when one trickled down his face, another wildflower bent down to wipe it away with its leaf. “I’m scared,” he admitted. 

 

“It’s okay to be scared of change,” the rabbit responded. “Change is the unknown, but then it eventually becomes known by the steps we take and the life we breathe into it. Change can be a beautiful place like this one if you want it to be.”

 

The little boy’s head rose from the ground as the wildflower behind it gently pushed him into a seated position on the grass. He wiped away the last of his tears while he took in his surroundings. He could see the cascading waterfall ahead of him, now sounding more rhythmic, like a song. The canopy of wildflowers opened up and moved in a synchronized way with the other wildflowers that were sprinkled about as if they were moving to the rhythm of the waterfall. He could hear laughter being carried by the minty breeze as other creatures emerged. Some smiled at him. Some waved at him. Some nuzzled him like the rabbit did. The rabbit then hopped into his lap.

 

As he soaked in the sights and sounds around him, feeling hopeful, the little boy still questioned himself. 

 

“What if it doesn’t work out?”

 

The rabbit also soaked in the sights and sounds before it offered its opinion. “I don’t know if anything truly doesn’t work out. Rather, in those moments, they show us a different way of seeing things, a different way to be.” 

 

The rabbit then paused in quiet contemplation before it continued, “There is something you might lose if you don’t allow this change to happen.”

 

“What’s that?” the little boy urged.

 

“A part of yourself,” the rabbit concluded. The little boy let that sink in for a few minutes until a familiar voice called out for him in the distance.

 

“Leo!”

 

The little boy picked up the rabbit, placed it gingerly on the grass, and stood up. He breathed in the rabbit’s reassuring words and breathed out his worries. Before he turned to leave, he took one last lingering look at the garden and then at the rabbit.

 

“Thank you,” the little boy expressed.

 

The rabbit beamed at him as he shared a final, parting piece of advice, “You should really thank yourself. Everything that has led you to this moment is really because of you. Remember that.”

 

Emboldened by that remark, the little boy waved goodbye to the rabbit and to the rest of the creatures as he stepped through the garden’s wooden arch. Once he found himself on the outside of the fenced-in garden, the little boy was now a man. He walked towards the cluster of picnic tables where his family was about to enjoy a meal.

 

“There you are, Leo,” came that familiar voice belonging to his grandmother. “What were you doing in my garden?”

 

“Just using my imagination to visit an old friend for some guidance,” the man explained as he hugged his grandmother.

 

When they pulled away from each other, the grandmother rested her hands on the man’s shoulders and whispered, “How do you know it was all your imagination?” She then winked at him as if she was letting him in on a secret. The man grinned from ear to ear as he sat down at one of the picnic tables.

 

He could see the garden in the distance, and it now looked like any other garden: a mix of wildflowers, herbs, and a water fountain. But for a quick moment, he thought he saw a brown-gray rabbit appear between the white pickets, look in his direction, and then retreat into the wildflowers.