Bear Stuffing

“What do you want to enter in the fair next year?  You could do a drawing.”

“I don’t want to draw.  I want to stuff a bear.”

This was the exchange grandson Rowen and I had during his first county fair.  In the morning we saw the “aminals”, even touched a cow, a sheep and a goat (but it was a no go to touching the pig).

As amazing as the animals were to him, the exhibits really captured his imagination, especially the Lego creations and the taxidermy displays.

Thus did Rowen decide that next year, his entry should be a stuffed mounted bear – until I told him “that’s fine, but first you have to hunt and kill him.”

“But I don’t want to kill a bear, Gran.  I just want to stuff him.”

“I understand, Rowen.  Believe me, I understand.”

Teddy No-Eyes with some friends

Perhaps it was no accident that the next day at church, Pastor Gran did her sermon illustration during the time for the young by bringing out her own childhood teddy bear and pondering whether his torn and ragged body and holes leaking stuffing evidenced a lack of care or the greatness of the love bestowed.  Rowen just thought it was funny that he had no eyes, little understanding the heathen I was at his age, ripping the plastic eyes literally from their fabric sockets just to see if I could.

I imagine my 5-year-old treasure of a grandson in his bed dreaming about stuffing bears and I wonder what that looks like to him.  Somehow I suspect it’s a much gentler vision than my own.  Oh, how I envy those 5-year-old dreams.

I think I'll take Teddy No-Eyes to bed with me tonight.  I wonder which will be keeping the other safe and from whom.  Such is the certitude of the 5-year-old that I'm pretty sure Rowen wouldn't even have to ask:  "why, we're keeping each other safe, of course!"