A stitch in time

My youngest daughter probably has over 50 stuffed animals in her room. Anytime we are at a store she goes straight to the aisle where they are displayed. “Oh, I want it,” she’ll say. We don’t buy her every stuffed animal she asks for, if we did, we would have to have a separate house for them to live in!

I started thinking this morning about when I was a kid (imagine that) and I thought about my favorite stuffed animal that I had, old Bugs (see picture above). We didn’t have the luxury of just going out and buying stuffed animals. They really weren’t that popular back then anyways and not readily available. Well, my mother is a master seamstress. She can sew anything she puts her mind to. I guess it was in the very early 1970’s, mom had a bunch of scrap material and she was just sewing up a storm. She made everything from blue polyester suits to for Sunday, to game bags for storing dead squirrels. One time she got on a kick of sewing stuffed animals. She asked each of us what kind of animal we would like to have. Since my favorite cartoon character in the world was Bugs Bunny, naturally I chose a rabbit. I don’t recall what my sisters chose.

I’ll never forget when mom finished my rabbit and she brought it to me. I was so excited! It was perfect to me. I guess it was red because that’s the material she had to use at the time. She had glued those little plastic eyes on it and a nose with whiskers. I promptly named it “Bugs.” I always had Bugs with me every night when I laid down to go to sleep. As I would say my prayers, I would lift one up for old Bugs. I don’t think he ever closed his eyes when I’d pray, but that was okay. He would either lie on my pillow and watch over me, or I would hold him in my arms till I fell asleep.

Over the years Bugs lost his glued on parts. I think his eyes fell off first. We tried gluing them back on but they wouldn’t hold. Then his nose and whiskers departed. I didn’t mind too much, I could still see where they used to be. Mom had to sew Bugs back up several times. One time his neck split open and some of the stuffing came out. I cried until mom fixed him back up. She must not have had any thread at the time because she used fishing line to sew it with. When I got into my teenage years, I still kept Bugs around, although I promptly placed him on the dresser, because, after all, I was way too mature to sleep with stuffed animals.

When I got married, I remember packing up all of my stuff. I threw a few things away, gave some items to different people, and took what I needed. I looked at Bugs sitting on the dresser; my mind was flooded with fond memories. I reached over, grabbed him, and laid him on top of a stack of clothes that I had packed in a box. Surely my wife wouldn’t mind if I brought Bugs along. It is hard to believe it has been 24-years since that day.

Fast forward to June 17, 1997. My wife delivered a strapping young boy that day. I knew right away he was the rightful heir to Bugs. We lay my son in his crib and promptly placed my treasured tattered homemade stuff animal beside him. He spent the first 3 or 4 years of his life chewing on the ears, that’s why one of them is shorter than the other. Matthew is 12-years old now and one of the smartest kids you’ll ever meet. I hope he doesn’t mind if I tell you that he still sleeps with old Bugs.

I thank God that I had a mother that was so willing to make me a little stuffed animal. I’m sure she didn’t think when she made it that it would still be around almost 40-years later and passed down to her grandson.

A Mother's Love

A Mother's love is something
that no on can explain,
It is made of deep devotion
and of sacrifice and pain,
It is endless and unselfish
and enduring come what may
For nothing can destroy it
or take that love away . . .
It is patient and forgiving
when all others are forsaking,
And it never fails or falters
even though the heart is breaking . . .
It believes beyond believing
when the world around condemns,
And it glows with all the beauty
of the rarest, brightest gems . . .
It is far beyond defining,
it defies all explanation,
And it still remains a secret
like the mysteries of creation . . .
A many splendoured miracle
man cannot understand
And another wondrous evidence
of God's tender guiding hand.

- Helen Steiner Rice