The Best Law of Attraction Book for Children You’ve Never Read (Chapter 12)
THE BEST LAW OF ATTRACTION BOOK FOR CHILDREN YOU’VE NEVER READ
Please find below the complete twelfth chapter of Cory Groshek‘s debut, middle grade children’s book, Breaking Away: Book One of the Rabylon Series. It is being provided to you free-of-charge by the author, exclusively through this site and courtesy of Manifestation Machine Books, because the author believes the information contained within the book is simply too important to be given only to those of us (parents, guardians, caretakers, and children) who can afford to pay for it.
(PLEASE NOTE: This book is copyrighted by Cory Groshek and all rights with regards to it are reserved. Accordingly, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise (except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews) without written permission of the publisher (Manifestation Machine). For information regarding permission, write to: Manifestation Machine, Attention: Permissions Department, 300 Packerland Dr # 13464, Green Bay, WI 54307.)
This book, which was written over the course of about 2.5 years by Groshek, encapsulates Groshek’s entire philosophy with regards to dreaming big, taking risks, trusting our gut, and choosing faith over fear in all that we do. Furthermore, the book brings together lessons about the Law of Attraction, the principles of Hermetic philosophy, and the teachings of Jesus Christ relative to abundance in a way that no other book in history has.
Whether we regard this book simply as a “Law of Attraction book for kids”, a self-help book for children cleverly disguised as an action-adventure, or a distinctly spiritual slant on classic storytelling (all of which are accurate descriptions), the fact remains that Breaking Away: Book One of the Rabylon Series stands as the one and only Law of Attraction book in existence today which puts the Law into language our children can understand. It is a must-read for anyone, parent or child, who dreams of someday finding their own abundance on the other side of the obstacles that stand between us and our dreams and should be required reading in every elementary school on Earth.
BREAKING AWAY: BOOK ONE OF THE RABYLON SERIES (Chapter 12)
Remy and Rhea emerged from the forest into a flat, grassy clearing. They looked around in every direction at their moonlit surroundings to see what they could see. To their right, and straight ahead, appeared to be more patches of forest, and they were about to take off running for them when something to their left caught their eye.
Could it be? they thought. Could it really be?
And it was!
There, at the edge of the clearing, bathed in the light of a billion stars, was the big, green hill they had come so far to find! Without hesitation, they made a mad dash for it and rushed up its steep, wooded slope.
Unfortunately, the hill was far steeper than they’d imagined it would be, and it quickly became apparent that running on flat ground and sprinting uphill were two entirely different things. After several minutes, their legs felt as though they were on fire and they badly needed a break. Reluctantly, they slowed themselves to a crawl and began to scope out the surrounding area for a place they could rest for a few minutes.
“Hey, look up there,” said Remy, pointing to a spot about a hundred feet ahead, “that looks like a good spot.”
The spot was about a third of the way up the hill and appeared to be much flatter than the areas both above and below it. With the aid of some nearby saplings, the bunnies pulled themselves to it and found themselves atop a flat, grassy ledge. Where they stood, the grass was significantly shorter than in the surrounding area, and sprouting out of it were several random patches of bright yellow dandelions.
Rhea recognized the tiny flowers immediately. She and Remy had been taught at a very early age to not pick or eat them because they were poisonous, a fact reinforced by both The Great Book of Rabylon and the Mayor’s policy of collecting them and locking them away for safety’s sake. Remy bent over, plucked one of the flowers from the ground, and sniffed it.
“No, Remy!” screamed Rhea, “Put that down! It’s poison—”
But it was too late. Remy shoved the entire plant into his mouth and chewed it just a couple times before swallowing.
Rhea panicked. She couldn’t believe that she and her brother had made it this far, only for her to watch him die a slow, painful death by way of a flower! She rushed to her brother’s side, tears welling up in her eyes, and prepared to catch him, as she was quite certain that he would fall lifeless at any moment. Then, suddenly…nothing happened.
“Rhea!” announced Remy, “These flowers are really good! You should try one!”
Rhea stood with her mouth agape. “B-but…” she stuttered. “Those are ‘golden ghostmakers’! And they’re poisonous!”
“What? These?” Remy pointed at the flowers scattered around his feet. “They don’t taste poisonous, and I feel fine.”
And amazingly he was fine, even several minutes after having eaten the supposedly poisonous plant.
Rhea was astonished. “But The Great Book…” she stammered, “It said that just a nibble of those is enough to kill a hundred rabbits!”
“Well,” said Remy, “I’m just one rabbit and I ate a whole one, and it didn’t kill me.” He bent over to pick another dandelion and offered it to her. “Here, try it,” he said. “It’s okay.”
Rhea stared at the flower, then at Remy’s face, and then back at the flower. After a slight hesitation, she cautiously took the flower from his paw and raised it to her lips. She looked at him again for reassurance and he nodded. And so she nibbled. Then she waited—first for a few seconds, then for a couple more. Eventually, those seconds became a minute and then, suddenly…nothing happened—again.
“I can’t believe it!” said Rhea with a big smile, “They really aren’t poisonous!”
Remy smiled back, and for a few short seconds he was very happy, but then, suddenly, a rather stark revelation struck him and turned his smile upside down. “Wait a minute…” he said gravely, “If these aren’t poisonous…” he paused, “then that means The Great Book lied to us!”
Rhea was stunned silent. Remy was right! she thought. Suddenly, she began to question everything she thought she knew, “Does this mean…” she trailed off, “Does this mean…that the Mayor lied to us?”
“Rhea—” Remy rubbed the front of his face with both paws and then held them out toward his sister, “It means he’s lied to everybody! You, me, Mama and Papa, Grandpa…everybody!”
And with that, Remy and Rhea’s entire world came crashing down. Although they’d always suspected that the Mayor wasn’t quite the “Hero” or “Savior” he’d made himself out to be, they’d never once questioned The Great Book’s teachings about what was or wasn’t safe to eat. Suddenly, they no longer knew what was true and what wasn’t, and as they came to the realization that everything they’d been taught growing up could very well have been a lie, they began to draw some even more concerning conclusions.
“So this whole time we could have been eating the ‘ghostmakers’ behind our house?” Rhea began to shake, as her happy thoughts about the magical carrot land were replaced with angry thoughts about her starving family back home…her emaciated parents…her crippled grandfather…and she and her brother’s own struggles to survive. “So this whole time we’d been starving for no reason?”
Remy had never seen his sister so upset, and he didn’t know if she was going to cry or scream, or maybe even both. Either way, he thought he might join her.
“Rhea…” he said, as cold, hard reality began to set in, “what if…” his eyes took on a faraway look, “what if everything we’ve been told is the truth is really a lie?”
Remy went into shock. He placed his paws on the sides of his face and wandered to a nearby boulder. There, he pressed his back against the stone and slid all the way to the ground. Then he sat, staring off into space as his mind tried desperately to put back together the pieces of his now-broken belief system.
Meanwhile, Rhea found herself swimming in hate: Hate for the Mayor…hate for his father and grandfather…hate for every greedy, evil thing they stood for, and for all the pain and suffering they’d brought upon her and her family. In the blink of an eye, her heart, which had once been as a levee holding in her hopes and dreams, became as a broken dam, struggling to hold back a raging river of anger that now threatened to extinguish her excitement about the other side of the hill.
But then, just as she was about to be consumed by the sea of hate that surrounded her, something inside of her—which, for some reason, sounded a lot like her gut—told her to “just let it go”.
Let what go? she thought—her anger? But she didn’t want to “let it go”! It felt good to hate the Mayor…to hate The Great Book…to hate everything she felt was wrong with Rabylon. And so she tried to ignore this whatever-it-was—but this only made it grow “louder” and more insistent. So then she tried to reason with it by arguing—inside her head, of course—that she needed to hate the Mayor, otherwise it would be as if she was okay with him lying to everyone. But the whatever-it-was wasn’t having any of it and again told her to “let it go”.
She was just about to come up with another excuse for staying angry when, suddenly, a warm, loving feeling began to well up in her heart. For a moment, she could have sworn she was a newborn bunny again, wrapped in her mother’s loving arms—if only those arms had been long enough and strong enough to hug the entire world. Immediately, she felt the image she held in her mind of the Mayor as a greedy, evil liar melting away and being replaced by bigger, brighter, and better images: Images of row after row of bushy green carrot tops waving in the breeze…of her and Remy writing poetry and painting beside a creek….and of her family laughing, smiling, and well-fed. The images felt so real—it was almost as if she could reach out and touch them. And then she wondered…what if she could?
She turned toward Remy, as hope sprang up inside of her. “Maybe you’re right,” she said. “Maybe everything we’ve been told is the truth really is a lie…but what about the things we’ve been told are myths? What if those things are really true?”
Remy’s paws dropped from his face and he perked up, “Do you mean like the—?”
“Yes, Remy—I mean like the magical carrot land on the other side of this hill!”
Remy leapt to his feet, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
The two were just about to take off running up the hill when the tall grass around them began to rustle and sway. They leapt backward and readied themselves to run. What now? they thought—A fox? An owl? Another wolf?
Suddenly, a quite unexpected voice emanated from the grass.
“Hey, you!” it said.
Slowly, the grass parted and out hobbled a very old, frail rabbit, wearing a raggedy brown vest that was so dirty, the bunnies couldn’t tell where the vest stopped and the dirt started. The old buck leaned toward Remy and Rhea as he clutched his back with one paw.
“Do you little whippersnappers have any idea what time it is?” he chided. Talking seemed to take a lot out of him. He hacked and coughed as though he might keel over at any moment.
“We’re sorry, mister,” said Rhea, “We didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Yeah, we’re sorry,” said Remy, “We were just so excited to go over this hill.”
The old rabbit limped in a small circle. When he wasn’t coughing and hacking, he muttered and grumbled and huffed.
“First things first,” he held up a claw, “don’t call me ‘mister’, like I’m old or something! ‘Mister’ is what I used to call my father!” He stopped limping and stood still for a moment, then turned his head to let out a raspy cough. “Secondly,” he turned back toward the bunnies, “why in Mother Nature’s name would you want to go over this hill?”
“Well…” said Remy, “we heard there’s a carrot paradise on the other side—”
“With more carrots than the eye can see!” interjected Rhea.
“—and we want to see if it’s real. We’ve come a long way to find it.”
“A carrot paradise, you say?” the old rabbit scoffed. “Well, I tell you what, if it’s carrots you seek, then you’re definitely headed in the right direction.”
The bunnies’ puffy tails wiggled excitedly at this seemingly great news. They were so happy they could have done back flips.
“But!” the old buck added, again holding up a claw, “I would hardly call it a paradise.” He resumed his limping, and the excitement drained from the bunnies’ faces.
“Wh—why?” said Rhea.
“Oh,” said the old rabbit snarkily, “do you really want to know why?”
The bunnies nodded.
The increasingly agitated elder began plucking at the fur of his ears, which were nearly bald in several spots, “Well, I’ll tell you why!” He thrust a finger toward the hill’s summit behind him, “The rabbits over there are lazy! They don’t work hard for anything!”
The bunnies were visibly taken aback.
Remy raised his paw and began to interject, “But—”
“But nothing!” said the enraged old buck. “The way I was raised, you had to do a hard day’s work to earn the right to eat. But not over there! Oh no, no, no—not over there!”
Rhea thought about saying something, but the old rabbit continued before she could get a word in.
“Now, over here? I work hard for everything! You see this?” He plucked at his filthy vest, “I even made these clothes myself! I get up early every morning to fetch water from the creek, and then I spend the rest of my time harvesting this wonderful grass!” He gestured toward a tiny pile of wilted brown blades tucked between two nearby boulders, “Best grass in the whole wide world!” He wandered to the pile, grabbed a pawful of blades, turned, and shook them at the bunnies, “It’s delicious!”
The bunnies’ faces scrunched up. The old buck wasn’t going to eat that terrible grass, was he? they wondered. But then he answered the question for them by shoveling the wilted brown blades into his mouth and chomping exaggeratedly. When he swallowed, his face contorted as if he’d gulped down gravel.
“You want some?” the old rabbit squinted as he offered the remaining blades to the bunnies.
“Uh…” stammered Rhea. She waved her paw, “No thanks.”
“But thank you for offering,” Remy forced a polite smile.
“Suit yourselves!” The old rabbit pushed the last bits of grass into his mouth and choked them down, “You don’t know what you’re missing!” He grimaced.
“Is that all you have to eat?” asked Rhea.
“Yeah,” said Remy. “It doesn’t look like much.”
“You know what,” said the proud old buck, “it may not look like much, but it’s all I need, and at least I worked for it, unlike the lazy rabbits over there!” He again pointed a finger at the top of the hill, “And you know what’s worse? They teach their bunnies that they don’t have to work hard for a living, either! They go on and on about “working smarter, not harder”—whatever that means! And then they have the nerve to tell them they can spend their whole lives doing whatever they want! What a load of malarkey!” He coughed. “Where I come from, you don’t do what’s best for you; you do what’s best for everybody!”
Remy and Rhea glanced at each other. Where the old rabbit was from was starting to sound a lot like Rabylon.
“Are you sure you aren’t working too hard?” asked Rhea.
“Yeah,” said Remy. “You don’t look so good.”
“Nonsense!” the old rabbit snapped. “I’m as fit as fit can be! In fact, I’m fitter than I was when I was your age! Watch this!” He took a few steps to his right and grabbed a stump with both paws. He tugged and grunted and strained, but the stump didn’t budge. “Hang on a minute,” he held up a claw, “I wasn’t warmed up yet.”
The old buck cracked his knuckles, bent over and touched his toes a few times, and tried again with the stump. He squinted hard and yanked on it with all his might, but it didn’t move an inch. Then, suddenly, he howled in pain and stumbled backwards, clutching at his spine.
“Ow, ow, ow!” he yelped, “My back, my back!” He gritted his teeth and winced as he fell into a seated position and scooched up against the nearest boulder.
Remy hopped over to and planted himself in front of the old rabbit, “Mister, I don’t mean to be rude, but we’ve spent our whole lives working hard. And if doing that for the rest of our lives means we end up like you, then we never want to work hard again.”
“Wha—what?” the old rabbit sputtered. “No bunny has ever spoken to me like that before! How dare you!” He pulled his paw from his aching back to point a finger at Remy, but then winced again and replaced it. “And stop calling me ‘mister’, you…you…you little whippersnapper, you!”
“Mister,” said Rhea, ignoring his demand, “we came a long way to get here. And we’ve learned that having enough to eat has nothing to do with working hard. Trees and flowers and birds don’t work anywhere near as hard as you, and they still have enough to eat.”
“Now you listen to me, you little know-it-alls!” the disgruntled old buck shook a finger at the bunnies.
“Mister, I don’t get it,” said Remy, not listening at all, “Why are you so mad at others for doing what they want to do? For doing what makes them happy?”
“Yeah,” said Rhea. She held up her paws, “Don’t you want to be happy, too?”
The old rabbit was stunned silent. But he was happy!—or so he’d thought…at least until these two little whippersnappers showed up!
“Why would you want to work so hard all the time,” said Remy, “when you could spend time with your family and friends instead?”
“Yeah,” said Rhea, “you do have family and friends, don’t you?”
The old rabbit stared at the bunnies with cold, angry eyes, trying hard to hide his emotions. But he just couldn’t keep up the façade any longer and his eyes began to water, “I do have family,” he said with a sniff and a hint of bitterness, “or at least I did.” He stood up and pushed away from the boulder in one fluid motion, “But it doesn’t matter!” He threw up his paws, “My brother is just like the rest of them and I don’t care if I never see him again!” He crossed his arms and scowled.
“Your brother?” asked Remy.
“Yes, my brother,” said the old rabbit. “When he and I traveled over this hill together many, many years ago, I thought everything would be perfect on the other side… but I was wrong—very, very wrong!” He exhaled frustratedly, “Turns out they have all kinds of fancy tools and gadgets for growing carrots, and they took all the honesty out of the work!” He held up his paws, palms first, to the bunnies, “They barely use their paws over there! Hardly ever get a speck of dirt on them! And I love the dirt!” He paced back and forth as he stared at his palms, “I loved getting my paws dirty and coming home from work knowing I did a good job and that I earned my food. But not Casper! Oh no, not him…he’d rather—”
The bunnies’ ears perked up.
“Wait…” said Remy. “Did you say Casper?”
The old buck stopped pacing. He glanced at Remy, then at Rhea, back at Remy, and then at both of them, “Yes, that’s what I said—my brother, Casper. Now,” he cleared his throat and tried to go on, “as I was saying…”
“Oh!” Rhea clapped her paws and jumped up and down as her face lit up with joy, “You must be Jasper! The Jasper! Our Grandpa told us so much about you!”
Rhea didn’t wait for Jasper to respond. She rushed to him and threw her arms around his waist, and Remy followed suit. At first, Jasper found the bunnies’ embrace to be rather strange and quite uncomfortable, but then he decided that it felt good—like something he’d been missing for a long, long time. The bunnies released him and took a step back. They were beaming from ear to ear.
“Your grandpa…” Jasper looked puzzled as he trailed off. “How did you know my—” he stopped and placed his paws on his hips. “Where did you two say you’re from again?”
“We didn’t say,” said Remy, “but—”
“It’s Rabylon!” blurted Rhea. She still wasn’t over the excitement of having met the Jasper.
“Rabylon, you say?” Jasper raised his eyebrows. “Now, wait one carrot-pickin’ minute…” he shook a finger at the bunnies, “do you mean to tell me that your grandpa is—?”
“Otis!” said Remy.
“His name is Otis!” echoed Rhea.
“Oh, Otis! My dear Otis!” said Jasper, his disposition suddenly becoming exceedingly sunny, “My brother and I had asked him to go over this hill with us a long, long time ago, and we surely thought he would…but then he decided to stay in Rabylon instead. Oh, I so wish he would have come!” he paused, “Say, how is my old friend Otis these days?”
The bunnies glanced at each other and sighed, then looked back at Jasper, “Not good,” they said in unison.
The fur between Jasper’s eyes bunched up as his nostalgia gave way to concern.
“Your grass over there is more food than he’s had in a month,” said Remy.
“It’s more food than anyone in Rabylon has had in a month,” said Rhea. “Well, except for the Mayor…”
“He makes us work all day, every day, and then keeps all the carrots for himself!”
“And our Grandpa can’t work anymore because he got hurt. So now he lives with us and our parents and our whole family is starving.”
Jasper rubbed the side of his face and took a deep breath, “So you mean to tell me your family works every single day? And they’re still starving?”
“Uh huh,” said the bunnies.
“After all these years?”
“Oh my…” Jasper fretted, “Oh my, my, my…” He paced around for a moment and then stopped suddenly, “So you’re telling me that my dear Otis is worse off there than I am here?”
“Yes, sir,” said Remy. “I’m afraid so….”
“This is terrible!” Jasper began to pace again, and seemed to be talking to himself as he went on, “Here I was, thinking I’d been working the right way…the honorable way…the Rabylonian way…meanwhile, my best friend and his family are starving to death!” He plopped himself onto the ground, placed his paws on either side of his face, and stared into space.
“So come with us!” said Rhea.
“What?” Jasper snapped halfway out of his trance and gazed inquisitively at the bunnies. “Come with you? You mean over this hill?”
“Yeah!” said Remy. “Do it for our Grandpa!”
Jasper sat silent for a moment as he pondered this suggestion. Since he’d left his brother on the other side of the hill many years earlier, he’d never once considered going back to see him. He and Casper had grown too far apart—or so he’d told himself—and there was no way to rebuild the bridge that had been burned between them. He hadn’t needed his brother, hadn’t wanted him around, and hadn’t cared if he would never see him again. But that was before these bunnies showed up.
Seeing Remy and Rhea—how much they loved and cared for each other, and how well they worked together—Jasper was reminded of the bond that he and his brother had once shared, and he grew misty-eyed as he realized that he wanted that bond back. Life, it turned out, wasn’t about what he’d imagined it to be about for most of his life: It wasn’t about struggling every day to make ends meet, finding fault in others to make himself feel better, or staying angry all the time just to prove himself right. It was about happiness…it was about freedom…it was about love—it was about making as many memories as he could with the rabbits that meant the most to him, while he still had the chance. And if he was going to take that chance, he decided, it was now or never.
“You know what,” he said, as he rose triumphantly to his feet, “I will go back over this hill!—not only for Otis, but for every rabbit in Rabylon that may never get the chance!”
The bunnies were so happy they shrieked. Their puffy tails quivered as they threw their arms excitedly around their new friend. And with that, the ice that had long encased Jasper’s weary, old heart began to thaw, and for the first time in a very long time, he smiled.
“I tell you what,” said Jasper, “I’m tired, and I’m sure you are, too, so how about we get a good night’s rest and head out first thing in the morning?”
Remy and Rhea were so full of glee that all they could do was nod. No longer did the world feel to them like the dreadful, thieving place they’d imagined it to be for so long, and no longer did it feel as though it was intent on taking what they had away from them. Now it felt like a beautiful, generous place, eager to pour only good things upon them—such as good food, great friends, and even better memories, the best of which were surely yet to come.
If you like what you’ve read here today, please be aware that Breaking Away: Book One of the Rabylon Series by Cory Groshek is also available in the following formats:
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