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Dec 23

A Blogmas Carol

Posted on Tuesday, December 23, 2008 in Joint posts, Poems and things


…At least I’m not one of them.

I don’t know her name, the lady that created me, but a part of her is still caught up in my stitching, like a fingerprint, and I liked her a lot.  She bought my bare bones in a woollen mill in Wicklow and brought me home to an old house devoid of heat and life,  but when she stepped through the front door she instantly warmed it with her comforting humming… when she sat down with me, I kept her fingers toasty while she stitched me slowly together.  We kept each other warm for many weeks until the day my button eyes were fixed to my bear-shaped head and I was finally complete.  From a forgotten ball of brown wool in a bargain bin, to a teddy-bear with plush stuffing and a bright blue bow tie.  My smile is wonky like that of my creator, and I have paws made of black embroidery thread.  I noticed straight away that my thumb is coming loose, a detail too fine for bi-focals to catch, I think it shall be my quirk.


It’s dark now.

It has been for several days.  She plopped a wet kiss on my nose and wished me Godspeed before pulling the golden bow taut around my crinkly wrapping, and now here I lie, quiet.


I heard voices multiply this morning.  Different cadences crossed the threshold and I felt the magical suspense as my hour of glory approached.  Smells of cookery and candle-wax wafted through my festive coverings and the clear bell chiming of wine glasses being toasted muffled in my cloth stuffed ears.

“Is it time yet?  Can we open them?” a small voice wheedled.  I hear a subtle grunt of approval and my heart soared.  I’m about to be unwrapped, about to meet my new owner, the person my creator cared so much about.

Gravity shifts suddenly as I’m picked up and squeezed.  I growl a pleased sounding teddy-bear growl which only I can hear.  Daylight.

I see a room lit with flashing lights which hits strands of tinsel and explodes brightly against the walls and the floors and in the eyes of the child that holds me.

“Awww, I have a brown teddy already!” the child’s shoulders slump for a second until he realises there are more gifts to unwrap.  He lets me fall.  I tumble into the pile of discarded wrapping paper below, and come to rest gazing into the eyes of the old lady who made me, I watch as she folds her arthritic hands in her lap and I want to be with her again.  She looks sad.

“Simon! Don’t be so rude!” the mother chastises the child, but does it on a full stomach which weighs her conviction down.  The child ignores her.  I sit where I am for hours, until nightfall.


I’m scooped up and darkness falls again as I land in a moist place that smells like tea-bags and poultry bones.  They can’t see me!  They don’t know I’m here.  I am carried away… I hear a door slam, and I’m cold.

I’m a forgotten bear.  I try to get used to this fact as I sit for a long time in the dustbin outside the front door to the apartment – my black button eyes begin to accumulate frost and people march by, desperate to return to warmth.

Rummaging sounds.

Dirty hands.  A boy in a filthy tweed cap fishes me out and peels greasy tin-foil pieces from my fibres.  I am placed in a satchel, patted with fingerless mittens, and carried away.

Arms.  I am held in two small arms, warm and cosy, periodically extended to be admired by the little sister of my rescuer, as the pair sit beneath an A.T.M. on Christmas Day with their paper cup.  I am loved, I feel the love for the best brother in the world from the happiest girl in the universe.  I’m a happy teddy-bear.

The little girl sings carols as she sits on her plastic bags and cuddles me.  I watch as passers-by throw coins into her cup and I sing along with my teddy bear growl that only I can hear.

I am not forgotten yet!


Bring on the comments

  1. […] Part I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, […]

  2. Aw that was lovely if a little sad Kate. Wonderfully told though :)

  3. […] Whoopsadaisy ~ Maxi ~ Will Knott ~ Darren Byrne ~ Raptureponies ~ Chris P Pancake ~ Darragh Doyle ~ K8 the Gr8 ~ Lottie ~ Grandad ~ Someone living ~ Jo Possibly related posts: (automatically generated)The Most […]

  4. Lottie says:

    Kate this is well..Gr8. Such a lovely sentiment but so sad at the same time.

  5. Good

    Reminds me of an old old book, long out of print, my granny would read to me, about the adventures of Buzzy the bear.

    I must scan one of the plates from it (it’s disintegrating a bit) and send it on to you, of the time Buzzy got lost and spent Christmas eve in a rather luxurious rabbits burrow.


    (Spoilt little git Simon)

  6. Jo says:

    Sad, Kate. Orphans and frostbitten grannies! And rejected bears! Thank god there was no stray dog…

    The worst thing is, my daughter is the rude present rejecter. She’s so bad. And she changes her mind when it’s too late and the rejected givers are out of sight.

  7. Will Knott says:

    All bears should be loved. Even if its not the person the bear is intended for.

    Remind me to rn a sad bear story past you.

  8. K8 says:

    I was going for the Little Match Bear sorta theme! It’s a happy story people, a happy story!!!

    Jo; Puppychild is exactly the same.

  9. Darragh says:

    It’s not a VERY happy story though, K8 (like I can talk) but it is wonderful. Lovely ending. Kinda.

    Hope you and the family have a great Christmas missus!

  10. Nelly says:

    Wonderful. Made me cry. What a talent you have.

  11. Holemaster says:

    Enough to make a grown man cry.

    I still have an old teddy in my “box stuff from when I was a kid”. His name is Teddy Edwards. He’s fucked.

  12. Jo says:

    Ah Holemaster…

    you fucked a teddy?

  13. Baino says:

    Aww bittersweet but excellent as usual. We still have ‘Sailor Ted’ and ‘Humber’ threadbare but comfortable.

  14. Sniff. Great story.
    Beautiful to be appreciated.
    I appreciate you.
    Merry Christmas!
    Yes, I’m drinking a little.
    We’re snowed in. It’s nice.

  15. Brilliant writing, K8. Merry belated Christmas! :)

  16. Tim says:

    Great one Kate…thankfully I remembered how your stories affect me so had the tissues ready:-) Still have my first teddy although a bit worn now since the monsters got him…no not the ones in the closet but the two nearly teenagerish boys!

  17. Natalie says:

    Oh Kate……speechless but so happy to be able to read your blog in a little down time.

  18. […] wrong. More of a “that’s an idea” and then the idea was filed away until later. K8 was its inspiration, but I decided that it wasn’t right for the following Christmas, but with the approach of […]

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