Thursday, December 8, 2011


This is a little boy’s cry each and every time he finds he’s in trouble. Not bad trouble, but to a little boy who gets scolded, he cries and thinks it’ll never be the same again. The only thing he can do is cry and shout ‘I W-A-N-T  B-L-U-E  B-E-A-R!!’ and the sniffling continues.

Blue Bear has been with this little boy from the day he was brought home from the hospital. The Bear is one that his grams bought because it has a special blessing on it, and she just loved it and so hoped the new baby would too. Eventually, he did.

Blue Bear allows the little boy to hug onto him through thunder storms, scary nights when lights are out and when imaginary monsters might loom in the closet. Blue Bear sleeps with him and never snores, and that is good because Blue Bear’s snoring would cause him not to fall asleep, says the little boy.

Blue Bear is the best confidant. He can keep secrets, and he never, ever tells on the little boy.

The little boy cuddles Blue Bear, wraps him in blankets and asks that he be washed when Blue Bear gets dirty. But the little boy never scolds Blue Bear for getting dirty because he so enjoys laughing and playing and getting dirty right along with Blue Bear.

He says Blue Bear is his best friend, and to a little boy of four, what better friend than a cuddly bear?

Instead of sharing from my Photography site at, I'm sharing from my writing site 'Peabea's Scribbles' at one of my stories and a photo textured with Kim's Summer Lovin and Dream. Hope you enjoy the story and the photo. You can tell by the photo that the bear has been hugged on a lot. He's beginning to look like Shabby Bear moreso than Blue Bear. :)

A Note: Since Blogger no longer hosts custom domains, I have put my site back to from my custom domain of that no longer exists. You will also find me on my photography site of Peabea's Patch, and always like when I see visitors at both places. :)

Love when I see a note saying hi. Thanks


©copyright Peabea (all rights reserved January 2012)

Just Passing Through

All the people that pass through our lives
Do you remember all the names?
Do you picture their face?
Seems the holidays usually bring that back into place

Ones we’ve loved,
Some we just knew,
Some were just for a few

You wrap your arms around to give a hug
And then you find that your arms are just hugging an empty space
They’re just gone,
Either moved on or passed to a better place, as they say
And we just continue each and every day
Do you ever wonder why?

Why do we just go on when others have left?
What motivates us to just keep moving, never giving up?
When sometimes our hearts are shredded away

What is this thing we call life, anyway?

© peabea December 2010