I’m getting on a bit but the older I get the more I feel the importance of reconnecting with childish things. As I sit and watch the occasional children’s programme with my grandchildren I see the world through their eyes. The colours are brighter, you can say what you really feel, and all things are possible; even magic!
Recently I watched a programme about antiques. Here they featured a pair of elderly teddy bears. One was a similar age to my own dearly loved bear – but this bear had glass eyes; a good sign apparently, and had felt soles on the feet, also a good sign. The difference however, was that this bear was up for auction (no!!) and was in tip top condition because he had never been played with! What!? Who wants a bear in pristine condition? (Well someone did as they paid a thousand pounds for him, but that’s not the point.)
Part of a bear’s charm is surely found in his threadbare appearance, a sure sign he has been dragged up through the years; sometimes cuddled to within an inch of his life, taken to play-group, dressed up and wheeled about, sometimes abandoned through teenage years but always on standby to be picked up and cried on during broken romances etc. He was always loved.
Here’s a poem about my own bear. (Who will never be sold.)
My faithful friend you look quite worn
You’ve been around since I was born.
Rough and tumble through the years
Has left you with some tatty ears.
Your beady eyes don’t quite match,
Your tummy has a threadbare patch.
I’m afraid your growl sounds rather weak-
Really just a timid squeak.
I often think if you were willing
I’d treat you to some brand new filling.
I would stitch up all your gaping seams
And comb your fur until it gleams.
But what’s a bit of wear and tear?
To me you are the worlds best bear.