11/2004
Have you ever dreamed of a teddy bear as a hero? Well, I have.
My bear is a girl, just as me. Her name is Duody. She was a birthday gift from my mom and dad when I was one year old. Now that I’m nine, I guess you know how old she is…eight, of course! Ever since we met, we liked each other so much that we have never separate for even one day.
She loves spending her free time sleeping, especially in the hibernation months. I guess she liked being pretty, therefore, my mom made a couple of homemade bear dress for her.
If Duody was just like this, she definitely won’t be a hero. But she did lots of things to me; she is unique.
I had been separated with my mom for nearly three years before I came to the United States. When I missed my mom, I always hugged my precious teddy bear, all my worries were over as if an icy chill would instinctively appear on my back spine, and then would I relax so my brain muscles won’t bother to wonder about the mysterious questions in life. When I talk to her, she would show me attentive listening and mutual respect by not interrupting me. I feel glad that she was caught being good, always. She also had given me encouragement when I was shy or scared. She was everywhere I needed her. Even if she was always looking the same, she looked to understand my troubles and care about me, in a friendly way. Even though my mom always loved me, it was nice to have a little extra love.
Now I live together with my mom, both Duody and me are very happy. Last month, I brought her to a Teddy Bear Clinic; she had a surgery on her arm by a real, licensed surgeon in a real hospital! I guess in my Duody’s heart, the doctor was her hero!
This little bear, Duody, had given me joy and love when my mom wasn’t there with me. That’s what I think a different kind of hero could be, loving, caring, understanding and friendly. No matter what people say, Duody was a hero, my childhood hero.
Duody in surgery
