Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Monday, January 21, 2013
Grandpa's Teddy Bear
I know this is sort of a Christmas story, but I needed something to post. I apologize to those of you who have already read it on L.A.R.K.
Rick stepped back and admired the twinkling lights and sparkling ornaments. Leah bounced up and down around the tree, clapping her hands. “It's all done, Grandpa!”
Rick watched her, amused.“Yep. I think we did a good job. What do you think?”
“It's perfect!” She continued her excited 4-year old dance, barely dodging the boxes and packing materials that littered the floor. Leah was his only granddaughter. In fact, he hadn't even known he had a grandchild until the end of last February. Apparently his daughter had died in a car accident, and the child's father was no where to be found, leaving Rick as the last known living relative. Rick, at first, had grudgingly welcomed the little bundle of energy into his home, but eventually he couldn't help but love the little girl. He began to think of her as his second chance at being a father. Rick knew he had failed miserably with his own children. One was now dead and the other was who-knows-where. Probably in prison. It didn't help that Rick's wife had left him, but he couldn't blame her for all the times he failed as a father. Blame and guilt rested heavily upon his shoulders.
Rick shook himself out of thought just in time to see Leah dive head long over a box. The box flipped over and its contents tumbled across the carpet. The girl crashed to the floor, bringing an abrupt stop to her excitement. At first her face was crinkled up as if she were about to burst into tears, but the expression was fleeting. Her sky-blue eyes lit up with curiosity. Leah reached for a mound of brown fur that had tumbled from the box. “What's this, Grandpa?”
Rick stooped down and took the item from her chubby hands. “I'm not sure...Ooh I remember now. This was my teddy bear when I was a boy. His box must have gotten mixed up with the Christmas decorations in the attic.”
Leah's eyes widened. “You used to play with toys?”
Rick nodded. “Mmm hmm. I was a little kid just like you once.”
“Can I hold him, pretty please?” Rick handed the bear back to the expectant hands. Brow furrowed, Leah examined the barely recognizable Teddy. Patches of fur were worn off in many places. One ear was chewed up, and the other was missing completely. One eye was also missing, and an arm barely hung by a thread. Stuffing threatened to squeeze out of the rip. “He's broken grandpa!”
“He's very old, Sweetie, and he's been through a lot.”
Leah cuddled the bear as if he were a long lost treasure. “Can we fix him?”
“I'm afraid Teddy is past fixing. He's just too broken.”
The 4-year old frowned, deep in thought. Seconds later her eyes brightened again. “No he's not! I know someone who can fix him. Mr. Gary can fix anything!”
“I'm sorry, Sweetie, but even Mr. Gary wouldn't be able to fix Teddy.” Rick said as firmly as he dared, but the rest of the evening was already ruined. Leah moped around until bedtime, cuddling the poor Teddy and saying nothing to her grandpa. Rick sighed when she was finally put to bed and he slipped between his own sheets. The normally optimistic girl had a lot to learn. Some things in life weren't worth trying to fix, or just plain impossible to put back together. Like a shattered teacup... and Rick's life.
When Rick awoke the next morning, the alarm clock read eight o'clock. He threw off the covers and hurriedly dressed, knowing a hungry 4-year old was probably waiting on him. Rick peeked into her bedroom. Only a pile of twisted blankets lay on the bed. Dolls were scattered across the blue carpet, and her dresser drawers hung open. She was elsewhere. Rick checked the kitchen and living room next, finding them both empty. Panic began to rise in his chest. He told himself to calm down. She had to be somewhere – and with Teddy. Rick hadn't seen the bear either. After a quick check of the rest of the house and yard, and then a double and triple check, Rick's panic was justified. With shaky hands, he dialed the police. He feared he may have just failed at his second chance.
After a thorough questioning from the officers, the search began. They told Rick to stay put, just in case she returned soon. He paced back and forth for hours, until he was sure he had worn a permanent trail in the carpet. Nothing made sense to him. He had found the front door unlocked, so she must have left on her own, but why? Because she was upset about the teddy bear? No, that didn't make sense. She never stayed upset that long.
Something inside himself urged him to pray, but he couldn't. No, not him. God would never listen to him. He was a failure. Rick was just as broken on the inside, as Teddy was on the out.
The phone rang, and Rick snatched it up. “Hello? Rick, this is Linda. How are you? I heard about Leah...” Rick just about hung up. He didn't feel like listening to the old woman's chatter. Although, if he didn't listen to her now, he would have to be subjected to one of her visit's later. Reluctantly, he lifted the phone back up to his ear. “Hello? Rick? Are you still there?”
“I'm here,” he grumbled.
“Oh good. I was just wondering if you would let me pray for you...” the woman continued.
“Linda,” Rick interrupted. “God doesn't care about me. Don't bother Him.”
Silence. Linda finally spoke in a quiet but firm voice. “He does care, Richard. More than you could ever imagine.”
“You don't know everything I've done.”
“You're right. I don't, but God does. He can fix your life, Rick. Ask Him.”
Rick hung up and resumed his pacing. She had to be wrong. She didn't know anything, but God did. That's why He would never pay attention to the likes of Rick.
The front door swung open, and a wild-haired little girl, dressed in a pink shirt and green pants speckled with orange flowers, skipped inside. A purple back-pack was slung over her shoulder, and her face was beaming. “Good morning, Grandpa!” Leah greeted. Rick rushed forward and gathered his granddaughter into his arms.
Only then did he notice the police officer standing in the doorway. “Where was she?” Rick asked.
The officer shrugged. “We found her skipping down Jefferson street.”
Puzzled, Rick bid the officer farewell and embraced his granddaughter once more. She squirmed out of his grip and darted toward the Christmas tree. Leah unzipped her backpack, revealing a brightly wrapped present.
“What do you have there?” Rick asked her.
Leah grinned and pulled it out. “It's your Christmas present.” Carefully, she placed it under the tree.
He raised his eyebrows. “What is it?”
“I can't tell you, Silly. It's a surprise,” the girl giggled. “You have to wait until Christmas.”
“Oh alright,” Rick huffed. He crossed his arms and scowled. Leah burst into more giggles.
Rick decided it was time to get serious. “Leah, look at me.” The little girl met his eyes. “Never leave the house again by yourself. You scared me half to death, and you could have been hurt.”
“But -” she protested.
“Never, Leah,” Rick said more sternly. Leah's fragile emotions broke through the surface, and she began to cry. The Marshmallow Grandpa that Rick was gathered her up in his arms and comforted the sobbing girl.
Soon in the hustle and bustle of Christmas time, the whole ordeal was forgotten. Rick was still curious from time to time what on earth could be in the package, but not wanting to ruin his granddaughter's excitement, he left it alone. He was just glad to have her back.
With snow on the ground and a chill in the air, Christmas morning came upon the small family. Leah, in her pink princess pajamas, did her happy dance around the Christmas tree. Rick chuckled and plunked down on the sofa. She hopped over to him, holding out the brightly wrapped packaged. “You first, Grandpa!” Rick was inclined to tell her to open hers first, but her bright-blue puppy dog eyes convinced him. Besides, he was curious. With trembling hands he tore open the paper. Nestled in the festive wrapping lay a perfect bear with two black button eyes and a blue ribbon around the neck, but it was undeniably his Teddy. Rick looked down at his beaming granddaughter. “How did you...”
“Mr. Gary can fix anything,” she declared.
“Oh...” was all Rick could manage. A flash of white drew his attention. A note was tied onto the ribbon. It simply read, “Remember, there is nothing too broken, that I can't fix.” Tears blurred his vision. An escapee dripped from his face and splashed onto the note, smearing away the word “broken.” Rick hugged Teddy and his granddaughter close and sobbed.
Rick stepped back and admired the twinkling lights and sparkling ornaments. Leah bounced up and down around the tree, clapping her hands. “It's all done, Grandpa!”
Rick watched her, amused.“Yep. I think we did a good job. What do you think?”
“It's perfect!” She continued her excited 4-year old dance, barely dodging the boxes and packing materials that littered the floor. Leah was his only granddaughter. In fact, he hadn't even known he had a grandchild until the end of last February. Apparently his daughter had died in a car accident, and the child's father was no where to be found, leaving Rick as the last known living relative. Rick, at first, had grudgingly welcomed the little bundle of energy into his home, but eventually he couldn't help but love the little girl. He began to think of her as his second chance at being a father. Rick knew he had failed miserably with his own children. One was now dead and the other was who-knows-where. Probably in prison. It didn't help that Rick's wife had left him, but he couldn't blame her for all the times he failed as a father. Blame and guilt rested heavily upon his shoulders.
Rick shook himself out of thought just in time to see Leah dive head long over a box. The box flipped over and its contents tumbled across the carpet. The girl crashed to the floor, bringing an abrupt stop to her excitement. At first her face was crinkled up as if she were about to burst into tears, but the expression was fleeting. Her sky-blue eyes lit up with curiosity. Leah reached for a mound of brown fur that had tumbled from the box. “What's this, Grandpa?”
Rick stooped down and took the item from her chubby hands. “I'm not sure...Ooh I remember now. This was my teddy bear when I was a boy. His box must have gotten mixed up with the Christmas decorations in the attic.”
Leah's eyes widened. “You used to play with toys?”
Rick nodded. “Mmm hmm. I was a little kid just like you once.”
“Can I hold him, pretty please?” Rick handed the bear back to the expectant hands. Brow furrowed, Leah examined the barely recognizable Teddy. Patches of fur were worn off in many places. One ear was chewed up, and the other was missing completely. One eye was also missing, and an arm barely hung by a thread. Stuffing threatened to squeeze out of the rip. “He's broken grandpa!”
“He's very old, Sweetie, and he's been through a lot.”
Leah cuddled the bear as if he were a long lost treasure. “Can we fix him?”
“I'm afraid Teddy is past fixing. He's just too broken.”
The 4-year old frowned, deep in thought. Seconds later her eyes brightened again. “No he's not! I know someone who can fix him. Mr. Gary can fix anything!”
“I'm sorry, Sweetie, but even Mr. Gary wouldn't be able to fix Teddy.” Rick said as firmly as he dared, but the rest of the evening was already ruined. Leah moped around until bedtime, cuddling the poor Teddy and saying nothing to her grandpa. Rick sighed when she was finally put to bed and he slipped between his own sheets. The normally optimistic girl had a lot to learn. Some things in life weren't worth trying to fix, or just plain impossible to put back together. Like a shattered teacup... and Rick's life.
When Rick awoke the next morning, the alarm clock read eight o'clock. He threw off the covers and hurriedly dressed, knowing a hungry 4-year old was probably waiting on him. Rick peeked into her bedroom. Only a pile of twisted blankets lay on the bed. Dolls were scattered across the blue carpet, and her dresser drawers hung open. She was elsewhere. Rick checked the kitchen and living room next, finding them both empty. Panic began to rise in his chest. He told himself to calm down. She had to be somewhere – and with Teddy. Rick hadn't seen the bear either. After a quick check of the rest of the house and yard, and then a double and triple check, Rick's panic was justified. With shaky hands, he dialed the police. He feared he may have just failed at his second chance.
After a thorough questioning from the officers, the search began. They told Rick to stay put, just in case she returned soon. He paced back and forth for hours, until he was sure he had worn a permanent trail in the carpet. Nothing made sense to him. He had found the front door unlocked, so she must have left on her own, but why? Because she was upset about the teddy bear? No, that didn't make sense. She never stayed upset that long.
Something inside himself urged him to pray, but he couldn't. No, not him. God would never listen to him. He was a failure. Rick was just as broken on the inside, as Teddy was on the out.
The phone rang, and Rick snatched it up. “Hello? Rick, this is Linda. How are you? I heard about Leah...” Rick just about hung up. He didn't feel like listening to the old woman's chatter. Although, if he didn't listen to her now, he would have to be subjected to one of her visit's later. Reluctantly, he lifted the phone back up to his ear. “Hello? Rick? Are you still there?”
“I'm here,” he grumbled.
“Oh good. I was just wondering if you would let me pray for you...” the woman continued.
“Linda,” Rick interrupted. “God doesn't care about me. Don't bother Him.”
Silence. Linda finally spoke in a quiet but firm voice. “He does care, Richard. More than you could ever imagine.”
“You don't know everything I've done.”
“You're right. I don't, but God does. He can fix your life, Rick. Ask Him.”
Rick hung up and resumed his pacing. She had to be wrong. She didn't know anything, but God did. That's why He would never pay attention to the likes of Rick.
The front door swung open, and a wild-haired little girl, dressed in a pink shirt and green pants speckled with orange flowers, skipped inside. A purple back-pack was slung over her shoulder, and her face was beaming. “Good morning, Grandpa!” Leah greeted. Rick rushed forward and gathered his granddaughter into his arms.
Only then did he notice the police officer standing in the doorway. “Where was she?” Rick asked.
The officer shrugged. “We found her skipping down Jefferson street.”
Puzzled, Rick bid the officer farewell and embraced his granddaughter once more. She squirmed out of his grip and darted toward the Christmas tree. Leah unzipped her backpack, revealing a brightly wrapped present.
“What do you have there?” Rick asked her.
Leah grinned and pulled it out. “It's your Christmas present.” Carefully, she placed it under the tree.
He raised his eyebrows. “What is it?”
“I can't tell you, Silly. It's a surprise,” the girl giggled. “You have to wait until Christmas.”
“Oh alright,” Rick huffed. He crossed his arms and scowled. Leah burst into more giggles.
Rick decided it was time to get serious. “Leah, look at me.” The little girl met his eyes. “Never leave the house again by yourself. You scared me half to death, and you could have been hurt.”
“But -” she protested.
“Never, Leah,” Rick said more sternly. Leah's fragile emotions broke through the surface, and she began to cry. The Marshmallow Grandpa that Rick was gathered her up in his arms and comforted the sobbing girl.
Soon in the hustle and bustle of Christmas time, the whole ordeal was forgotten. Rick was still curious from time to time what on earth could be in the package, but not wanting to ruin his granddaughter's excitement, he left it alone. He was just glad to have her back.
With snow on the ground and a chill in the air, Christmas morning came upon the small family. Leah, in her pink princess pajamas, did her happy dance around the Christmas tree. Rick chuckled and plunked down on the sofa. She hopped over to him, holding out the brightly wrapped packaged. “You first, Grandpa!” Rick was inclined to tell her to open hers first, but her bright-blue puppy dog eyes convinced him. Besides, he was curious. With trembling hands he tore open the paper. Nestled in the festive wrapping lay a perfect bear with two black button eyes and a blue ribbon around the neck, but it was undeniably his Teddy. Rick looked down at his beaming granddaughter. “How did you...”
“Mr. Gary can fix anything,” she declared.
“Oh...” was all Rick could manage. A flash of white drew his attention. A note was tied onto the ribbon. It simply read, “Remember, there is nothing too broken, that I can't fix.” Tears blurred his vision. An escapee dripped from his face and splashed onto the note, smearing away the word “broken.” Rick hugged Teddy and his granddaughter close and sobbed.
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