Teddy

This is Teddy. He belongs to my girl. He's been around since her first Christmas. I found him in a bin of stuffed animals at Toys R Us. He looked soft and sweet and I hoped she would love him. She does. She sleeps with him every night and has since that Christmas. When she moved to her toddler bed and able to get out on her own, Teddy would come with her as she made her way to "watch" every morning. Mr. and I would see her shuffle down the hall, her hair all over the place (my son said, rather matter of fact, "She looks like a hedgehog."), Teddy's neck would be wedged up under her arm and his soft body would flop back and forth behind her. I would, and sometimes still do,  have to pick him up off the floor after the rush of the morning has past, and give him a squeeze as I walk back to her room and put Teddy back on the bed to wait for her. He smells like her; soft and warm. I love that. He is the one thing that is all hers and she and my son have that understanding. He does not mess with Teddy and she does not mess with Robert Champion Bear. I know that they will both have those bears forever and cherish them. Teddy bears, or puppies or lambs, stick with you. They seem to be the one thing you don't lose. I still have mine, Black Bear, and he even went to college with me. Black Bear is now in her room within the mound of her stuffed animals, but every now and then, I will walk in my room and he will be on my bed, waiting.