I first met him in the fourth stall on a cool, misty Saturday morning in Portobello Road market, London. The dowdy, red-cheeked antique dealer told me four teddies had come in the day before. Three of them sat there placidly. But one spoke.
“I like you.”
“How much for this teddy?” I asked.
“Twenty quid,” said the woman, nodding. “That one is a bit of a flirt.”
I looked closer. His fur was badly worn, and there was a big bald spot on the back of his head. His joints were very weak. Should I?
“You already have too many bears,” my husband reminded me.
Turning to go, I saw how disappointed the bear was.
“Please,” he said. “I won’t be any trouble.” He was too old and tired to hold his head up.
For hours, I dodged vegetable carts and pushy people, while gleaming silver teaspoons, clown puppets, felt hats, Victorian jewelry, and mysterious clocks tried to tempt me. But it was no use. Even the hurdy-gurdy man, with his clever monkey and cheeky parrot, couldn’t make me forget. I had to go back.
I pushed through the crowd, weaving in and out, so worried I had missed my chance. When I finally got back to the fourth stall, the others were gone but he was still there, staring forlornly at the ground.
When I picked him up, he said, “I waited. I knew you’d come back.”
He told me his name was Pudding. “You know, dessert. The best part.”
I wrapped Pudding up carefully and took him home to America. Later, I found him in a bear book. He was more than 50 years old. As a collectible, his age, maker, condition and rarity determined his monetary value. What nonsense! Who could presume to put a price on a battle-worn appearance which spoke of dunks in a rain barrel and drags along the sidewalk?
I have seen the saddest threadbare remnants of a bear and have felt his soul, alive and reaching. Once a bear has been loved by a human being, its expression is forever marked. How much for that faraway look, 50 years in the making?
The teddy bear is childhood’s most enduring toy. Never judgmental, teddies are equally loved by both sexes, in all age groups. I had lots of dolls as a child, but no bears. I might have lived the rest of my life bearless, if it hadn’t been for Brideshead Revisited. Do you remember Sebastian Flyte, carrying Aloysius around Oxford University? Evelyn Waugh modeled Aloysius after John Betjeman’s bear, Archibald Ormsby-Gore. Betjeman, a poet who also attended Oxford, died with Archibald in his arms.
Seeing Aloysius made it more than okay to have a bear. I made up for the missing bears in my childhood by acquiring close to 300 bears. Pudding is very special, though, because he came from England.
Today, I’m sharing “Teddy Bear,” by A.A. Milne, who would have been 126 years old today. Though he wanted to be remembered for his other writing, Winnie the Pooh still reigns supreme. Milne captured the very essence of friendship in those stories, and nothing matters more than that.
“Teddy Bear” was first published in PUNCH magazine (1923), and was later included in When We Were Very Young (1924). This was the world’s first introduction to Edward Bear, aka Winnie the Pooh. I hope you have some extra honey for him.
by A.A. Milne
A bear, however hard he tries
Grows tubby without exercise.
Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,
Which is not to be wondered at;
He gets what exercise he can
By falling off the ottoman,
But generally seems to lack
The energy to clamber back.
Now tubbiness is just the thing
Which gets a fellow wondering;
And Teddy worried lots about
The fact that he was rather stout.
He thought: “If only I were thin!
But how does anyone begin?”
He thought: “It really isn’t fair
To grudge one exercise and air.”
Today’s Poetry Friday Roundup is at Farm School.
“Promise me you’ll always remember: You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”
~ Christopher Robin to Pooh, by A.A. Milne
19 thoughts on “friday feast: to love a bear”
Pudding is beautiful and so are you. What a lovely post.
Oh, Pudding…what a perfect name, and what a perfect bear. Reading this post made me want to hug a bear. 🙂
Oh, I love Pooh so much. That quote brought tears to my eyes. Thanks.
I might have to crack open the Pooh books later.
Pudding says he’s sorry about Postum.
Pudding wants you to write a poem about him.
Every so often, we all need our dose of Pooh.
I had no teddy during childhood either, which seemed rather unfair to me, as my sister had a gorgeous antique bear from Germany… but as is so often the case, if one kid doesn’t take care of something, the others don’t get a chance to screw up. I got myself a bear, out of a bunch of things being thrown away after a neighborhood garage sale. I don’t know who owned it, where it came from, or how old it is, but it’s mine, which is what counts. I loved your bear story – Pudding is a great name, and how funny to find out that after all THAT, he’s collectible. Who cares: he’s happy.
Oh — and I LOVED the Milne poem!! I shall never mind being short and stout again!
Pudding is adorable, as is that Milne poem. I was just reading part of my Winnie-the-Pooh 80th Anniversary Edition, which is a truly wonderful, beautiful book the other day.
I love teddy bears too. I have one in every room of my house. There is one on my desk at work, watching over me right now. Thanks for the Pooh wisdom today dear.
Re: TadMack says:
I love that you rescued your bear from a garage sale. In all my years of collecting, I’ve found that bears find YOU, and not the other way around. They seem to know who they want to live with, who needs them the most.
Pudding thanks you for the compliment! I feel like rereading all of Milne’s stuff, too. Some things are so timeless.
Pudding, really, is looking just right. Not a hair too tubby, if you ask me…
Re: Cloudscome says:
Yay for bears everywhere!! (This is why I had to move to a larger house.)
Ooh, watch it. He’s very sensitive about his hair (or lack thereof)!
So I’m not the only one who does this sort of thing with stuffed animals? Whew!
Pudding’s a cutie!
Who are you calling a stuffed animal :)?
I think they’re good therapy.
We’ve been celebrating A.A. Milne all week at home, with three kids and too many bears to count.
I’ll have to share your bear story with them, too. Thanks.
Becky at Farm School
Love to hear about households full of bears!
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