Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

I have always loved Winnie the Pooh, and I read those books to my children  one chapter at a time as they grew up, everyone freshly bathed and in a pile on my bed. listening. I cannot read the last line of the book without teary eyes. 'So they went off together. But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place at the top of the forest, a little boy and his bear will always be playing.'

That's the same childhood that I wanted for my own children, full of imagination and love, security and being taken care of. It did not work out the way I hoped. I suppose our ideals never match reality, do they? They are grown now, and seem happy enough in their own chosen paths. Now there are grandchildren, three of them, and for all my shortcomings as a parent, I can say with all honesty, I'm a fine grandma. 

My oldest grandaughter has quite a collection of stuffed toys on her bed.  They have names. She loves to carry on conversations with them. For her 5th birthday, she got a new toy that she adored. It was soft and mooshy. She climbed up on the couch next to me. "Grandma, do you want to play?" 

"I surely do," I said, and she handed me 'Hildee'. I began to speak in changed voice, telling her how happy I was to be there. "I was SO afraid! I didn't know where I was going. I hoped it was a nice place, with a nice little girl. I was so happy to see you!"

She chatted a bit and then said, in a very serious voice, "I will be going to school soon and you will not be able to go with me." 

(Oh my heart! Christopher Robin had much the same conversation with Winnie the Pooh...)

I asked, "What about me? What will happen to me?" 

"You will stay in my bedroom," and she described her beautiful bedroom.

I said, "It sounds wonderful. Will you tell me about your adventures when you come home?"

"Yes," she answered. 

"Then I will be very patient and wait for you. Maybe some day I can go to school for show and tell."

"Maybe," she answered. "But I promise that I will love you for all my childhood." 

Has there ever been a moment so sweet that a person just burst? Because it felt like I might. 

It was a long and busy day, and at bedtime, there was no argument. She went up the stairs to her bedroom with her parents to brush her teeth, put on her princess night gown, and listen to a chapter from the book that they are reading. The rest of us stayed downstairs visiting. 

Before long, my son was gallumping down the stairs. "Where's that toy she got today? She wants that toy." He picked up a toy, but I said, "That's not the one. Hildee is over on the floor by the couch." 

Back up the stairs he went, to that enchanted place at the top of the stairs where a little girl and her stuffed animals will always be playing.