My husband came through with flying colors. He bought me a bear. As I mentioned before, my mom made bears.

Mom tried to get me into collecting dolls. From a very young age, my mother would buy me fancy, collectable dolls. They were beautiful on display on my shelf in my room. I was not allowed to play with them, though. Taking off their clothes and dressing them in something new was a major wrong. So they grew in number and my shelves became crowded. They were pretty to look at, but after a while, I just couldn't get excited about them.

One-day mom took me to a very fancy doll and teddy bear show. One look at the super soft, collectible bears, and I was hooked. No more dolls for me. Mom was a little slower coming around. She was more drawn to the classic styled, expensive German bears, but they were hard and not huggable. Since she was so talented at the sewing machine, she began making bears. The first, Leroy, was made from my aunt's old fake fur coat. She began to design her own and sell them. Sometimes they would be dressed in fancy clothes; sometimes they would just be naked! She made a little profit and began to get a following at the craft shows she sold them at. I enjoyed helping her make them and often kept her company at the shows. She liked the way I stitched their noses and mouths. Often she would have several put aside to stitch when I came home from school. It was "our thing." We got into bears together. Although I rarely get them now, it's a passion that I will always have.

I always had stuffed animals, lots of dogs mostly, since I was terrified of the real thing. I guess people always tried to help me by buying dogs - to overcome my fears.

One was named 'Doggie.' He was a souvenir that I just had to have. I remember telling my father, "I promise I will love him forever." He was the favorite. He slept next to me every night, long past the age where children were supposed to give them up.

Dad had a bear like this when he was a boy. He showed me his little threadbare panda and I fell in love with him. He let me play with him and after a while he just fell apart. I felt guilt for years afterwards. A few months ago my brother gave me the little panda and the guilt was fresh and new. "I am sorry, Dad!"

Well, Kate found my Doggie the other day. I let her play with the doghouse one of my brothers had lovingly constructed for him. When she saw him-all tattered, threadbare and dirty - she gasped, "Oh, this little doggie is nice!" She was delighted as if he were brand new. Now I know why Dad gave me his panda bear. The joy and love of watching your child love something you loved so dearly totally washes away any sadness of the toy falling to pieces. If I were a toy, that is how I would want to go.

Paul is a very left brained guy. He will admit it. Spending money on something that doesn't do anything is just beyond him. Cell phones, digital cameras, DVD players - those are what he gets into. Teddy bears and stuffed animals? Well, not his style. This year for my birthday he put all those strict reservations aside. He not only bought me a bear, he bought me one that is enormous, a huge extravagance. I wept with joy from receiving it. I couldn't stop the tears on the way to our night out. He knew it was the perfect gift. In a way it was from Mom and Dad too!