Oh Bear

Scattered images are appearing in my memory. My mother and I walk out of our apparent and down the stairs, stomp, stomp, stomp.  The musty smell of old carpet and mildew reach my nose, but I do not complain because I love the smell of my home. The big wooden grey door swings open, the light engulfs my small body as well as exhaust. It’s around November, with the brisk air stinging my lungs. We begin our walk, across streets, through parks, around sharp corners. We pass my favorite playground, with a huge jungle gym. The jungle gym had three slides, multiple swings, and a giant tire swing. I remember my best friend Jack and me on that tire swing, seeing how fast we could both go. We keep walking, my heart beat picking up. The familiar object of the street, my mother is holding me back, the thrill of excitement driving me forward toward my goal, I remember.  Even though today the streets are filled with cars honking, people yelling, cigarette smoke puffing, gum on the ground, beggars asking for money, bicycles in the streets, and the hustle and bustle of Boston; I only remember my petit feet thumping the cold, hard concrete and my breath creating a cloud in front of me.  The library with its glass bridge over the street is to my right. The day that my nanny and I crossed that bridge was not a blur to me; I remember the fear of falling into the traffic. However, that day in November, there was no people on the sidewalks, no cars in the road, just me and my mom going to the toy store.  The toy store was my favorite place in Boston.  It was my imaginary castle with as many toys as possible inside; a girls dream Barbie store, a train station, and a stuffed animal haven. But those aren’t the details I remember the best. It has nothing to do with the inside of the store, the millions of dollars’ worth of children toys, it was outside. I don’t know why it interested me so much, or why I still remember those times I visited it. I believe it was to a small child a wild idea, a dream come true, or a giant toy that everyone could use.  Outside was a giant, brown, plaster teddy bear.  The bear was soft like glass yet fluffy in my imagination. Its warm hug offered me a feeling of a real teddy bear, I loved that teddy bear. To a small toddler in such a big world, this bear was a phenomenon.  Once I was released from my mom’s hand, I would climb and explore with all the other children; fortunately as a child, even if you are playing with a complete stranger, it seems as though they are your best friend. This teddy bear was my downtown Disney World right in Boston. It seems unreal that a giant teddy bear made of plaster and probably dirty with city filth could provide such a happy memory for me. Yet it does have happy aspects of my family, my birth city, and my childhood. This bear was a place that represented my life, and I will always remember my first memory.

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• 607 of 1956
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