I am new to this place and have come here because my human being, Margaret, came here first. Both of us had blogs in another place but were unhappy there, so when she told me she was coming here, I followed.
She has told me she is very happy here and believes I will be, too, so we shall see what happens.
I had a number of friends in the other place, but did not have many come to visit very often; I hope there will be visitors here. I hope to make new friends as Margaret has encouraged me to do.I am a good bear and think I would be a very good friend.
Because some may think it is a bit odd for a teddy bear to be blogging and wonder what I am about, here is my story as I shared it in my other blog a few years ago...
Margaret got me out of that old box last night. It is so nice to see again the inside of a room that has been lived in instead of the inside of a dark closet. It has been a long time; I thought she had forgotten me. She and I have a history, you see, and probably would not like for me to tell any of her secrets, but because I love her and she knows I would never do anything to hurt her, I really do not think she would mind too much if I reminisced a bit. After all, it is Christmas time. I would like to talk a little. But, then, I suppose most people would not care to listen to the ramblings of an old teddy bear, anyway...
"Yes, Teddy. It's me. You weren't expecting me to find you doing this little expose', were you..?"
Well, no... Do you mind?
"Of course not, Little Guy. Why would I mind?"
You are not always the most open person, you know.
"Yes, I know, but I'm working on it."
May I continue?
"I'm sorry. Go ahead, my friend. I won't bother you again."
I knew Margaret a long, long time ago before she was Marge. She was a shy little girl with a lot of imagination. She liked to talk when she knew people, but most of the time she was content to play by herself. She liked to read, too--
"You're making me sound like a little hermit, Teddy."
You were not going to interrupt--
She interrupted others sometimes.
I am afraid I must confess that my memory is not so good. I have not been out of that box for so long; there is a lot of Margaret's life I have not seen. You see, when people give a teddy bear to a child they figure the bear will be there while the child is small: a friendly companion, company. The child will grow up as Margaret did and the bear will be outgrown like the child's shoes.
Sometimes old bears are given away. I was one of the lucky ones. Margaret kept me. If she had given me away, though, I think I would have understood. Another little boy or girl would have loved me just as much. Their hugs and cuddles would have felt just as nice.
Margaret does not know this, but I can feel her feelings and know what she is thinking. I believe it started when I was first given to her. The first thing she felt was happiness. But right now she is feeling a little sadness about leaving me in the closet for so long. I think she is doing the right thing by bringing me out again. Even if she does not remember a lot of our times together when she was a little girl, she sees me and remembers me as a friend. That is enough.
I am not as handsome now as I was when Margaret and I first became friends. I think I had a ribbon around my neck and my body was nice and plump. My fur was soft and fluffier then. You can not see my mouth very well now, and I think I used to have my little red tongue sticking out a little (I am not too sure why this was...I think I am glad it is not sticking out anymore. It seemed a little rude...)
I am a little scruffy, but, you know, it is not such a bad thing. I was in a little girl's life. We played together. If she sat on the floor, I was probably there, too. If she had a cookie, she probably tried to share it with me. If she went outdoors to play in the yard, chances are that I was right there with her. She loved to climb trees. I like to remember her and me in the big old maple in the back yard. She used to love to sing--still does--and probably sang to me as we sat among the leafy branches.
There is a very sad thing about teddy bears. No one told me this next thing; I think it is something that Margaret has thought, and now I know it. Anyway, a teddy bear is pretty much forever but little boys and little girls are not. They grow up, have children of their own, then keep on growing until they become something called "old". Margaret is thinking right now that that she is not old and I will never tell her otherwise; in my eyes she is still that little girl who loved me and whom I still love. She is thinking about grandchildren some day. She is thinking that she would like to give me to one of her sons or to one of her grandchildren. I think I would like to be with a little child again...
"I am so very sorry."
"You must have been very sad and lonely in that old box all those years..."
Part of a teddy bear's job is to forgive and forget. I think that is why my memory is not reliable. I only remember good things. That is enough.
"Would you like to spend Christmas with Steve and me?"
Steve? Who is Steve?
"When you are done with your story, I'll sit down with you. We'll talk, and then you will meet Steve."
I would like that. You love him, too?
"Yes, I do, Teddy. Very much."
I think I will love him, too.
"I know you will, my little friend. Teddy, I would like to give you a Christmas present a bit early, okay?"
That would be very nice, Margaret. Thank you.
"Merry Christmas, Teddy..."
Merry Christmas, Margaret.
(And that is when she gave me a spiffy red ribbon as a Christmas gift.)