here's to all those who slept with us when we were children. they absorbed our tears, they kept us safe from the goblins in the night. they were bears, popples, pound puppies, dollies, and any other animal imaginable, so long as they were soft and fit into the crook of our arms.
heres to their patience to being knocked off the bed as we slept, to being smothered beneath our blankets, used as pillows, dirtied with spills and spots. They didn't mind it when grimy little hands clamped onto their arms and legs, and their beady little eyes actually seemed brighter the more we loved them.
Whether we had one or a dozen, they were central to our nighttime lives, and even our dreams were safer when they were near.
I had BlueBear first. not quite blue, but mostly so. he was made of linen with a patch pattern. I slept with him every night until we lost him while moving to a new house. The story is that I cried for months without him while family scoured the entire country looking for a replacement. When a replacement BlueBear was finally found I somehow knew it wasn't the same BlueBear. Where oh where are you, my lost BlueBear? I still love you. Come home to me. Come home to me.
Then there were dollies who made no lasting impression on me. Dollies never do. I respect that some of us might have had our Cabbage Patch dolls. I even have lived in the same room with one for a few years in college. but dollies are nothing to me. nothing.
My carebear was different. I still have him. He's stained now and matted with age. WishHeart Bear. I love you WishHeart Bear, even if I DID replace you with Popple.
I loved Popple so much he had a baby. one night while i was sleeping my mom came in a deposited a "baby popple" in his pouch. I eventually gave my Baby to my little sister, when she lost her Baby in a tragic day at the park. But i loved my popple, and I loved him more when he had his baby. Every day i would wake up for months to see if it happened again. Sadly, Baby was an only child. and ugly child, but an only child.
Finally, the creature who I still sleep with sometimes, but keep in a hallowed place next to my bed. He still watches out for me. He has two horns, now horribly misshapen... cloven hooves, bright beady eyes. His name is Rammy and he is a mountain sheep. when my mom and dad were separating, my dad gave me Rammy the day that he left, the day that my world fell apart (for so it felt to be). i was always a daddy's little girl, and when dad left, i was suddenly a very lonely and lost little girl. Rammy was my best friend and my protector. He's absorbed so many of my tears, I think that he is mostly salt now. salt in old fur. I don't dare wash him any more, but I still love him just as much.
So here's to our nighttime protectors. Our pals and our friends. Here's to their matted hair and grimy faces. here's to the glow worms and the Dorellas. | 
