When I was about eight, a family acquaintance gave me a box of dolls and toy plush. They used to belong to her daughter, but now that her daughter was an adult and no longer needed dolls, she wanted to give them away to somebody who would appreciate them. My mother told her that I loved dolls and toy plush, and thus I became the recipient of this generous gift.
All the dolls and toy plush were of good quality. However, there were too many of them to look after and I felt bad for those that spent most of their time in my closet. So, I started to give away some of them to my close friends.
One day, my two childhood best friends and their families came over to my house for a potluck party. While we were playing, one of my friends became fond of a plush bear which was part of my new plush collection. It was modelled after a rare black bear in Japan, and came in three sizes. Large, medium, and small. My friend particularly loved the medium one. Since I wasn’t taking a good care of these plush bears, I told her that she could take it with her if she wanted. She was delighted upon hearing my offer, and when the evening was over, she took the bear with her.
After my friends and their families left later that night, I was wandering around in the house feeling sad that the fun time was over when my mother got a phone call from the mother of one of my friends.
“They are coming back,” she told me.
“They are coming back?”
That was great news to me, but I wanted to know the reason.
“Did you give your friend a plush bear? Well, her little brother saw it and he also wanted one. So, they are coming back to pick one for him.”
I ran to my room and took out a selection of toy plush on my bed. When my friend’s little brother and his mother came, I showed them all the options and said that he could take any of them.
“Wow, there are so many of them! Which one do you want, honey?”
My friend’s little brother wasn’t distracted by the large selection. He already knew which one he wanted. He immediately pointed to the giant plush bear, which was the bigger version of the one my friend had taken earlier.
“You want this one?”
My friend’s mother was a little alarmed by its size – since it was almost as large as the boy himself – but seeing how satisfied her son looked, she accepted his decision.
Thus, the boy, his mother and the giant bear happily left my house.
A few weeks later, I heard an interesting update from my friend’s mother. Since the giant bear came to their house, her little son told her that he was no longer afraid of sleeping on his own because his bear was with him.
“He says he no longer needs his mommy at his bedside when he sleeps!”
There was a mixture of joy and disappointment in her voice. Happy for the way her son was gaining independence and a little sad that there was one less thing on the mommy’s to-do list.