Bunny Tales Read Online Free Page A

countless handmade cards I had made for my parents over the years. It’s a very sad feeling to know that the first eleven years of your life did not leave a trace.
    The year we spent living in Athens was both fantastic and difficult. The only money we were able to bring with us from Poland quickly ran out and my parents had to find jobs. After living in a hotel for about a month, we moved into a very shabby apartment with a few pieces of furniture. There were many times my father wanted to go back to Poland, because running out of money and working in positions well below his qualifications was very difficult for him. My mom believed it was worth the sacrifice. She was the rock that carried us through. I, on the other hand, was having a blast.
    I attended school, where I learned Greek and a few words in English. I met new friends, both Greek and other immigrant children from all over the world. My parents worked, and I had to fend for myself. After school I explored the city with my friends. At eleven years old, I was taking the buses by myself, going to new neighborhoods, and often getting lost but always finding my way home. I would buy myself a souvlaki for lunch and go on adventures every day; Mount Likavitos, the zoo, and I never tired of watching the change of guard at the Parliament building. I learned Greek mythology and went to the Acropolis whenever I could. I was fluent in Greek in no time. I loved the spirit of Greece and really enjoyed living there. I appreciate the people and the culture and fondly remember that time.
    I had a paradoxical childhood; I was a happy and loved child who lived in a country suffocated by Communism and longed for a different life. My mother showed me not to be afraid to take life into my own hands. Throughout the years, when I have found myself unsatisfied with the status quo, I have drawn on my childhood for strength to make changes. My mom also taught me about taking chances in life. My parents sacrificed everything; they gave up their careers, the support and love of their families, and left all of their material possessions. They did that so that I could have opportunities they did not have or those that I would not have had, had we remained in Poland.
    I am sure the last thing my parents expected was for me to move into the Playboy Mansion; I did not expect that of myself. But that was what fate brought my way, and I responded to the invitation the same way I had to other new experiences—I was intrigued. I welcomed the experience. I always feel that if I am not receptive to life and all that it has to offer, I am not taking advantage of the gift of freedom my parents gave me.

2: Canada, Eh .
“I’m not a lumberjack, or a fur trader. I don’t live in an igloo or eat blubber, or own a dogsled. And I don’t know Jimmy, Sally or Suzy from Canada, although I’m certain they’re really, really nice.”
    —Molson Canadian Campaign
     
     
    A fter about a year in Greece, our application to immigrate to Canada was approved. We were informed that they were sending us to British Columbia. If it seems surprising to you that we would move to a place someone else chose for us, it seems just as astounding to me as I write this. We didn’t have a choice as to where in Canada we were going; I think the Canadian government sends people to areas that need to be populated. My parents had heard that British Columbia was very beautiful, and so we were excited. After a flight that seemed to last for an eternity, we finally arrived in Prince George, in interior British Columbia. We were greeted by some Polish people who lived there, and then we were taken to a hotel. After a few days, they helped us find an apartment. Arriving in Prince George was a major culture shock for us. In Poland we lived in a beautiful historic city, then we lived in ancient Athens bustling with life, and now we had found ourselves in a small lumber town in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. Undeterred, my parents