In the window at home there’s a sweet little bear,
slightly tattered, not torn, but missing some hair.
He sits kind of floppy, and propped with a view,
watching and waiting and thinking of you.
A bear you can see by his worn looking face
that’s been treasured and favored
with his own special place.
Loved from the beginning,
he’s been very well fed
on the dreams of girl
and all the things in her head.
He’s enjoyed the all pleasures of years
two, three, four, five, and soon six,
he’s her favorite he knows,
the one she always picks.
But today is somehow different,
someone’s taken his place,
it’s that silly old Pooh Bear who’s crowding his space.
Beside his dear girl as she goes for the day
he wonders what they’re up to
missing her greatly
in his bear sort of way.
Growing up can be scary for a bear on his own
he’s been a faithful companion and rarely alone.
He sits and he watches and wishes she’d phone.
‘ I am here and I miss you,’ is just what he’d say,
‘ Will you be home soon, are you on your way? ‘
He knows it’s silly to be sad and so blue
as her little girl heart can love much more
than a old bear or two.
One day when she’s older
with hair that’s gone grey
she’ll have trouble remembering
things like his name,
when she got him,
or the games that they played.
He’s heard all the stories
from bears on the street
when the children aren’t looking
and they’ve a moment to speak.
They whisper in passing
of changes to come,
but for now he’s still Boris,
and her number one.
Yesterday after a long day out, I noticed Jersey Girl’s favorite bear Boris sitting in the window. He’d been left there in the morning by JG posed on the window ledge so that he could see outside while she was out exploring with us. I was lucky to see him when I did managing to get two quick shots before she grabbed him up to join us at the table for dinner. She didn’t know I was outside taking pictures and in the second photograph, you can just make out her ear and the side of her face as she is reaching for him.
I began the little bear story this morning and what came out has as much to do with my relationship with an old stuffed bunny from my childhood as it does with Jersey Girl and Boris, her bear. This is one of the things I love most about writing, you begin a story thinking it is about one thing and suddenly another story begins to reveal itself along the way.
I would be interested to know if you remember a favorite toy or stuffed animal and can you remember its name ?