Response #8 Stuffed Animals

Mysterious Theologian: Ben

Puffy

Puffy McKernan, 28 years old and still as beautiful as the day she was given to baby Elana.

Blessed are you, worn and dirty Stuffed Animal. When the night is dark and monsters lurk, you are my guardian who does not sleep.  When the fever comes and doctors leave, you are the healer who gladly soaks my sweat into your stitches.  When my parents fight and I flee to my room, you are the comforter who dries my tears with felted paws. When it is my birthday and I am alone, you are the guest who always comes to my party, eager to hide crumbs in your fur for later.  You smell of the shame of wet beds, the triumph of trees climbed, the joy of mud wallowed.  You are more precious to me than my final piece of candy, and yet when I met my very best friend, I will give you to that person.  Because you are love.  Amen. 

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Challenge #8 Stuffed Animals

Yeah Ben, that’s right, stuffed animals. Obviously not any old stuffed animals. Stuffed animals in store windows and other glass cages are fine. What I’m talking about are kids’ favorite stuffed animals. The one they drag through preschool with them, sliding it along the table during snack time, laying on it like a pillow on the floor during nap time, and sucking on it all the time! I’m talking about the stuffed animals who announce kids’ entrance. “Oh, stop s-w-e-a-r-i-n-g hunny, I can smell Timmy coming.” Those are the stuffed animals I’m talking about, the ragged, beaten, broken, and rank stuffed animals that even parents who sleep with their living-breathing animals won’t allow into their beds.