Four Stuffed Bunnies (and a Bumble Bee)

When I was in my mid/late 20s, my father gave me a stuffed bunny, along with some fancy chocolates, four Easters in a row. I secretly loved that, despite being all grown up, the mythical holiday bigwigs still had their part in my life. However, I felt a bit silly putting my floppy-eared toys on display. I'm just not that kind of girl.

True to my father's good taste in gifts, these were some rather lovely bunnies. Adorable and girly and tea party-worthy. But each year, as the Easter holiday season passed, I would tuck my newest acquisition into a blue plastic storage bin, figuring that someday I'd be able to find them a proper home.

Enter, Craigslist.

I posted an ad looking for someone to help me give these bunnies a new home. And per usual, I wanted to know why they were interested in my bunnies. They may be stuffed animals, but they my stuffed animals, and were given with love. They needed to go to the right home.

I received a few inquiries, but only one felt right. It was from a gentleman from Wellesley, who had a two-year-old granddaughter named Chloe, with a sibling on the way. He assured me that his granddaughter would give my old bunnies the love a stuffed animal deserves (and that Chloe's mother would ensure they remained well cared for). Sold.

Fast-forward to noon today, when Bob, the gentleman from Wellesley, met me in front of my workplace. I handed over a Nordstrom shopping bag full bunnies (and one tiny little stuffed bumble bee that had come from my mother), and he presented me with a bouquet of tulips and daffodils as a thank you. Such a pleasant little surprise that totally brightened my day.

Just goes to show, random acts of kindness are indeed contagious . . .

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--both mentally and physically--to live happily ever after.

Snowflake, the Fluffy White Teddy Bear

Let me start by saying that I have always believed stuffed animals have feelings. That when the stuffins are inserted at the toy factory, a little bit of spirit and soul gets mixed in, too. So, when I found the following note attached to my beloved old teddy bear, Snowflake (a.k.a. Oatmeal), up to his armpits in a garbage bag, my heartstrings were tugged and my reaction was a mixture of laughter and tears.

Dear Holly (please read this when we are alone),

With every visit here at Grandma's home, she fluffs me up and plunks me in the corner of your sleeping area. I think she realizes just how much you mean to me and therefore does not resign me to the basement or worse yet, the dumpster. However, this new outfit she has fitted me with, tells me she may do just that.

My one and only dream would be for you to take me home with you and find a purpose for me once again so I may enjoy my existence. I remember the day my loving Grandma and Grandpa found me and Freckle on a high shelf in Macy's department store. They immediately knew we would be loved by you and Uncle Jimmy. That brought such joy to my heart and I couldn't wait for Christmas Morning! I loved your little arms around me and will forever let that memory warm my heart.

Grandma has told me that you have someone else to snuggle with these days and I am happy for you. I realize I am dusty and have dirty spots on me and am no longer desirable. It would mean so much to me if you would take me home and give me a bath so I can smell nice again. Maybe you could put me on the internet and find a young person who would love me the way you used to. Or, maybe Teddy or Inky would like to lay on top of me and love me in their own way. I just want to feel needed, and Grandma just uses me as a pillow sometimes. She sometimes hugs me, but I think she just feels sorry for me. I want to be special to someone. Will you help me? If you scrub me up it will take years off of me and I just know someone will love me again. I promise not to be any trouble.

Thank you for reading this Holly, and I hope with all my heart that you will please take me home and help me find someone to love me. It is why I was created and I can't tell you how lonely I am.

All my love,

Oatmeal

I drove back to Boston that weekend with Snowflake in my passenger seat, crafting in my head the ad I would post on Craigslist to find my old bear a new home in time for Christmas. Before unloading my bags, I carried Snowflake into the house with my arms wrapped around his belly. My boyfriend was amused and promptly re-named the long-limbed fella the Snow Monkey.

For a good month or so, Snowflake (a.k.a. Oatmeal or the Snow Monkey) held court in the living room, patiently waiting for me to take the next step. He needed a bath. There was a drop of barbecue sauce stuck in his fur and decades of dust had turned him a dingy shade of snow reminiscent of March. I was caught between wanting to keep him for my own and finding him a new loving home.

Come early December, with the tree all adorned and the holiday season upon us, I carried Snowflake upstairs to the bathroom and bathed him with OxyClean and a washcloth, ever so gently, removing the past that clung to his exterior, readying him for a new set of loving arms.

Snowflake found his new home via Craigslist quite quickly, as you might expect of a handsome guy such as he. I received numerous requests for him, but the one that immediately stood out as being just right came from a teacher at Winthrop Middle School who works in a therapeutic classroom. She explained that many of her students are healing from trauma and sometimes find solace in just sitting with a stuffed animal in their arms. Sold. I packed Snowflake up the very next day and overnighted him to the school, where he arrived just in time for their annual family holiday party.

So, just as my parents had been warmed by visions of their children wrapping their arms wrapped around these two big fluffy teddy bears, I, too, feel a swell in my heart knowing this bear still has many more hugs to come.

P.S., I regret to inform you that Freckle, my brother's teddy bear, eventually bought the farm. But only after years and years of being snuggled, drooled upon, and used as a pillow. I suppose that's a pretty good life for a teddy bear to lead, too.

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically--to live happily ever after.