I thought of the rabbit a lot, and every time I did, I kept remembering that time meant life. It was a while before I went back to the field to find the rabbit, partly because of what had happened on my last encounter and partially because my mum had made me feel so guilty about it.
Eventually, I gathered enough courage together - which basically meant that my level of guilt had fallen below my desire to find the rabbit - and headed off to the rabbit warren.
. . .
I thought I knew where the rabbit hole was. I knelt down next to what I thought was the rabbit’s hole and tried to fall down it. I fell flat on my face. That was stupid, I thought, hoping nobody had seen me.
“I’m glad you realise that you can also be stupid.” The voice came from the next hole over. “Why don’t you mark the hole if you think it is too difficult to recognise. That way, you won’t waste your life looking for a stupid rabbit hole.”
Was that a little touch of humour from the rabbit? I wondered.
I reached for a small rock and placed it next to the hole, then I fell in. Picking myself up and brushing off the dirt, I said, “All the holes look the same. How do you know which is your hole?”
“The same way you know which is your home when all the cottages look the same.”
“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry - I mean about last time. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“I know you are sorry, but a sorry doesn’t cancel out a wrong. If you never do anything wrong or never hurt anyone, you will never have to say sorry. Life is not just a series of wrongs and corresponding sorries, and at the end of the day, you’re a decent person if the number of wrongs and sorries even out.”
“What about good deeds?” I asked.
“What about them?”
“Well, they’re kinda like a wrong only opposite, aren’t they?”
“Say what you mean instead of, ‘well, they’re kinda like a wrong only opposite,’” the rabbit mimicked.
“Okay! Is a good deed the opposite of a wrongdoing?” I asked in a most proper manner.
No, wrongdoings are wrongdoings, and good deeds are good deeds. You can’t cancel or reconcile wrongdoings with an equal number of good deeds.”
“I can’t?”
“No, you can’t. Now, what do you usually get in response to a good deed?”
I didn’t know, so I shook my head.
“A thank you,” prompted the rabbit.
“Oh, yes - thank you!”
“Are you thanking me for prompting you, or are you just repeating what I said?”
I just looked at the rabbit.“
It doesn’t matter. What I’m saying is - a wrongdoing, a sorry, a good deed and a thank you, are not equated. If they were, a sorry would cancel out a thank you. Do you see what I mean?
”Being totally confused, I wriggled out of the situation by saying , “I’ll think about it”, and went on to ask, “If somebody does me a good deed, should I do one back?”
“Why? Does the person require a good deed to be done at that particular moment?”
“How would I know, but I owe one, don’t I?”
“It would be a waste of both of your lives to perform an unwanted good deed. Instead of continuously keeping a tally of what you owe and what is due to you, it is much better to keep an attitude that you are prepared to help anyone at any time, not just the person who helped you. This way, the good deeds will spread to other people, and this goodwill may continue, and eventually, a good deed may come back to you. You don’t have to reconcile all your good deeds against your bad deeds by the end of the day. There is no time limit. Just the thought of helping someone when they need it is enough to make the spirit grow.”
“I suppose you’re right, but doesn’t everybody have that attitude?”
“Unfortunately, not - so why don’t you make it your mission in life to be an example,” suggested the rabbit.
I took my cue from this and said goodbye. I climbed out of the hole and went to the river to see if I could see any fishes.
“Fish!” the rabbit called after me.
‘Oh yes - fish!’
. . .