“Coffee is not for bears!” My seven-year-old niece, Abby, stares in shock at a picture on her mom’s phone of her new teddy bear. Relaxing on a balcony at a Nashville hotel with her two married aunts, all relishing dark cups of caffeine, the bear looked delighted at his new surroundings. In the bear’s defense, he had already braved quite an adventure. Chosen at a gift shop in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, he had then spent the travel day trapped in a trunk or a backpack. A hot cup of coffee and a view of the glass atrium was just what he needed. After that, this mischievous bear was ready to get into trouble and, by the looks of it, he was going to have help.
Abby fell in love with this little black bear with a grin on his face, soon dubbed Berry, . Picture after mischievous picture was sent across the miles from an aunt with too much time on her hands. With Aunt Monica attending a conference, Aunt Sarah and Berry hung out reading books by the pool, checked out the Berry-sized airplane in the toy store, and played the drums at the Music Hall of Fame. Aunt Monica also took time out from her conference to take Berry on a boat ride, tease him over a garbage can, and teach him how to slide down the bannisters. On the flight home, Berry even got to visit the cockpit to meet the captain.
When we first met Berry at the gift shop in Tennessee, I never would have guessed how this little bear would not only change our relationships with the kids but would change us as well. With Berry’s go-lucky attitude and sense of fun, he quickly taught my wife and me to take time for childlike play, something we often forgot to do as adults. He trained us to look constantly for moments that would make us laugh, that would amuse our two nieces and nephew (then aged 7, 3, and 1 respectively). We giggled as Berry climbed on a bike at the outdoor store, played hide and go seek at the Black Bear Café, and chased the ocean waves on the beach. When Berry eventually went home to my eager niece’s arms, I not only missed Berry, I missed the joy he inspired us to find.
Unbeknownst to me, my wife had looked at Berry’s tag before he went to live with Abby and a few weeks later, she gave me Bentley-Anne on Christmas morning. Thinner than Berry and with a more serious, thoughtful demeanor, Bentley also loves a good adventure and is quite a creative bear. She loves playing with my watercolor pencils, going on lighthouse tours, and hiking in the woods. When we told her we were going to live in Montana for a month, Bentley asked us to bring a friend for her: Uni, a purple unicorn with sparkly wings. Viola, our second niece, would be turning four years old while we were away,and Uni was planning to live with her when we got back. In Montana, Bentley and Uni rode a horse, rafted on the river, hiked in the woods, swam in a lake (miraculously without getting wet), and rode around in my bike’s basket sharing ice cream. Uni even joined us one morning for coffee, which, of course, she loves.
Whenever we see the kids now, we all bring our stuffed animals so they can still hang out together. Berry even has a little buddy, Honey Bear, that looks just like him. The four like swapping stories about all the adventures they are having.
All this could be called “silly,” but it’s so much more and I’m grateful. As adults, we seem to make so many assumptions about what a thing is or isn’t, what an action means or doesn’t mean, that we miss countless opportunities to laugh, play, be curious, and, especially, to connect with others. With our four fluffy friends beside us, we now look at the world with new eyes, finding those moments to twirl Bentley on a ceiling fan or help her and Uni build a mini snowman. Looking back, I also realize that taking all these pictures of our pint-sized companions has been a way to honor the child within me. I also find I love my wife all the more for so fully joining into this game we’ve created for ourselves and the kids. In what has been an especially hard season in the land of grown-ups, Berry, Bentley, Uni, and Honey Bear have been lights and causes for celebration. They are gifts we gave to our own souls.
In a couple of months, Monica and I will be heading out for another month away, this time in Utah. Bentley is planning on writing a letter to our now three-year-old nephew, Zane, to ask if Turtle can join us on the trip. We met Turtle at the end of our Hawaii vacation, and Bentley thinks exploring Zion National Park with him would be awesome. We may even get them ice cream – and coffee. ~~~
Sarah Katreen Hoggatt is a writer, poet, workshop leader, and spiritual director whose work is described at sarahkatreenhoggatt.com. She is an independent member of Sierra Cascades Yearly Meeting of Friends.