Bit like a sad scene from Toy Story isn't it?
It came as a nice surprise when I across an article whilst skimming through the online news this morning that is entitled
A point of view: The Grown-ups with Teddy Bears.
The article talks about different men and their teddy bears. One man in particular was Sir Robert Clark, who was part of Churchill's Special Operations Executive and a holder of Distinguished Service Cross. This hero was accompanied on missions by his very own hero, made of less stronger stuff but a hero just the same, his teddy bear, who went under the name of Falla. Falla did such heroic things as parachute into enemy territory and was even a prisoner of war. My poor teddy who is getting on a bit has done no such thing. But do I love him any the less? Certainly not!
My rather moth eaten teddy has been with me since the day I was born (quite a long time ago) and was my companion on all my travels, he was my bed fellow until my husband turned up and this was when he quietly found himself a comfy chair in our bedroom. This is why I love him so, not once did he moan or complain at being ousted, he never said a word about no longer being my confidant and never grumbles about his aches and pains. His stuffing has fallen out of one leg, he has one eye and a terrible hair cut the result of encouraging my daft idea of becoming a hairdresser. And that’s the things about teddies isn’t it? They give you love, never judge or complain, and just like the author of the article states