(Today I have posted a photo of me and Beauty in our younger days(we're somewhere on the right column) with my sister, just so you get the idea of what I write next). Here on the left is a picture of Beauty today.
What is Beauty? Beauty is 61 years old. Is he a he or a she? I don't know. He's my teddy, given the name Beauty and lived with me almost all of my life. He's about 10 inches tall and in my mind's eye I see him with shiny fur and bright glass eyes. Beauty was mine - not something I had to share with my sister and neither was he a hand me down. Like me he grew older. His fur not so furry and somewhere he lost an eye - but Beauty was still beautiful and much loved.
Such a cherished bear so why did I do it? No, I didn't send him to a charity shop. I gave him to my granddaughters - my much loved bear. I thought they'd love Beauty like I did, but one day on a visit, I found Beauty in the garden, most of his fur missing - almost bald even and worse of all, he'd lost his voice. He was wet and the stuffing had been knocked out of him and he was almost dead.
I was SO angry and upset, but I said nothing. I picked Beauty up and bought him home where he belonged. I dried him out and put him back in the bedroom. And although his growl has gone and he looks older than me now, he managed to convey that, like me, he has indeed seen life!
What is Beauty? Beauty is 61 years old. Is he a he or a she? I don't know. He's my teddy, given the name Beauty and lived with me almost all of my life. He's about 10 inches tall and in my mind's eye I see him with shiny fur and bright glass eyes. Beauty was mine - not something I had to share with my sister and neither was he a hand me down. Like me he grew older. His fur not so furry and somewhere he lost an eye - but Beauty was still beautiful and much loved.
Such a cherished bear so why did I do it? No, I didn't send him to a charity shop. I gave him to my granddaughters - my much loved bear. I thought they'd love Beauty like I did, but one day on a visit, I found Beauty in the garden, most of his fur missing - almost bald even and worse of all, he'd lost his voice. He was wet and the stuffing had been knocked out of him and he was almost dead.
I was SO angry and upset, but I said nothing. I picked Beauty up and bought him home where he belonged. I dried him out and put him back in the bedroom. And although his growl has gone and he looks older than me now, he managed to convey that, like me, he has indeed seen life!
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