Most of us growing up will have had our favourite toys, but nothing is ever quite as special as your first teddy bear.
Today I want to introduce you to my teddy bear. He was given to me when I was born – I think by my Uncle John – and he has always been my very favourite teddy. His name, very unoriginal though it may be, is Teddy.
Teddy has always been top of the pile for me as far as toys are concerned. When I used to play games with my stuffed toys, Teddy was always the hero – the one who would save the day, rescuing Ragdoll from the evil Heffalump. He has red felt tip pen on one knee and on the opposite ear where he played the walking wounded in a game of hospitals, and his arm are floppy, with no stuffing left in them at all.
I am not a sentimental person particularly, but I would be very sad indeed to lose Teddy. He isn’t the cuddliest of bears, but there is still something comforting about him. I can remember the feeling very clearly of being upset as a child and crying into Teddy, his rough fur prickly against my face, stroking my cheek with his soft paws.
Belle takes care of him for me now, but after being loved for quite a long time he is beginning to look a little worse for wear – his legs are going weak at the knees and his nose is a little on the frayed side. I have even thought about sending him to real Teddy hospital, but I wonder whether he would feel quite the same with stuffing in his arms.
Do you remember your first teddy bear?