The Christmas Bear

Christmas was never a great time growing up for me. After I married, I wanted it to be special, but that didn't happen either--in fact,other than the spiritual significance of the holiday, it became a dreaded one for me because of our circumstances. A friend told me, "If you don't like the memories you have, create new ones." This poem errupted out of that counsel and represents what I always wanted Christmas to be like when my kids were little. I hope you enjoy it. Janet

The Christmas Bear
© 2004, Janet K. Poludniak

I had spent the night with paper and ribbons
wrapping gifts for my daughter and son.
I placed them all carefully under the tree,
then admired the job I had done.

With a twinge of guilt for the pile of gifts
and the hope that I would not spoil them,
I whispered a prayer while sitting there,
"Lord, help them to know I adore them."

"Let this Christmas time remind them of You
and the wonderful Gift that You gave us.
Most important of all, help them, I pray,
to know, dear Lord, that You save us."

When I opened my eyes, to my surprise,
I was drawn to one special thing:
he sat there unwrapped for all to see;
what joy I hoped he would bring.

For a loveable teddy sat under the tree.
He had a little, red bow ‘neath his chin.
He had shinny black eyes, soft, fluffy, brown fur,
and wore such a playful grin.

He was cute as could be and it tempted me
to just scoop him up in my arms,
so I rose from my chair and walked over there
drawn in by sweet teddy bear's charms.

We sat for a while; I gave a wearisome smile
as I thought of some memorable things:
I once got a bear–with a cute little chair,
and what wonderful memories that brings.

He was new that day, but each day we'd play;
soon my bear didn't look so fine.
He got ragged and torn, his fur was all worn,
but that ragged, ol' teddy was mine.

I'd whisper my secrets in his little bear ears
and he'd whisper his secrets to me;
and it didn't matter that he was all tattered,
for he was just special, you see.

Even when his stuffing–from huffing and puffing–
would spill out and fall on the floor,
I'd pick up the stuff and poke it back in
and childishly stitch him once more.

My eyelids grew heavy, the kids would soon rise,
so I put teddy back under the tree.
"It must be the hour! I know he's just stuffed,
but I'd swear that bear winked at me?"

I reached for the light as the clock struck 3:00,
and stole a last glance just to see . . .
and smiled at the thought, but I think that I caught
that bear smiling back at me.

Then I was reminded as I studied his face
that it's just like my Jesus and me.
He loved me brand-new, He loves me now,
and that thought still amazes me.

When He first made me, I was all brand new;
I was as cute as a child could be.
ten fingers, ten toes, and a cute button nose
and eyes as blue as the sea.

But the years have worn; I'm tattered and torn,
but no matter–He still loves me.
and when I fell apart, His great, loving heart
filled, mended and then made me free.

I turned out the light and whispered, "Good night,"
those who mattered could hear what I said.
And I'm sure I could see teddy winking at me
as I climbed up the stairs to my bed.

Story ID:	3784
Written by:	JANET KESSLER POLUDNIAK (bio, link, contact, other stories)
Organization:	JUST ME
Story type:	Poem
Writers Conference:	My Favorite Holiday Story
Location:	Cayuga NY USA
Year:	2008
Person:	Parents at Christmas time--or any time.