My aunt Wendy died when I was 11. This was her teddy growing up. It sits on my grandmother's porch because she cannot bear to get rid of it. I think she should never get rid of it. Can you imagine how many nights Wendy cuddled this bear for safety and security? Can you fathom how much of her baby love is still held in his stuffing? How many hugs can he give back? And, if you think he's old and bald and unloveable, ask a child...
God bless you Wendy...we think about you all the time and we are taking care of Teddy!
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
AUGUST 31st: Wendy's Bear
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment