grace the bear

A few years ago, I got a book on Japanese-style stuffed animals called by Aranzi Aronzo. I made a few for Christmas gifts. Then Lucy got hold of the book.
"I want this one, Mama," she said, pointing to a very cute, but (I thought) less than exciting) bear. (There were Cats! and Monkeys! and Bad Guys! and an absolutely adorable Terrier!)
But bear it was.
Bear wasn't too hard to make, and I was pleased to make it for Lucy, and eagerly anticipated the reveal on Christmas.
The big day came. Lucy opened it, looked at Bear, smiled, and then set her down to rip open the next package. Then she didn't touch her again for at least a month.
And during the next few months, the bear languished in the bottom of an overlarge pile of stuffed animals.

Until.

A few months ago, Lucy dug her out, and dubbed her "Grace the Bear." Then she started intermittantly requesting animals to sleep with. Sometimes it was Grace the Bear, sometimes other animals. Then it was usually Grace the Bear.
Now it always is.

This past weekend, on a trip away from home, it came time to tuck Lucy in. Lights were off, and I was leaving the room, when Lucy sat up in her bed.
"Where's Grace the Bear?"
My stomach knotted. GTB had not been on my packing list.
Ack.

I broke the news.
Lucy moaned. "Grace the bear! I miss you!" Her voice had a mournful note in it I've never heard before. It broke my heart.

Thankfully, she's attached, but not too attached. After a few minutes of me substituting for GTB, I left the room, and she slept peacefully (well, mostly).

But I have to say: if giving your child gifts is pleasurable, making them, and then having them treasure them is infinitely more so.

Grace the bear, we love you.