Today, with the bit of sunshine peeking through the gloom, I got to thinking of all my friends with babies new and/or expected.  The new honoring the old, cherishing tradition.

cuddly toy

years of plucking, pulling, squishing and grabbing had brought it to the brink of destruction

tears and wet nappies brought it to the whir of the washing machine

time wore it thin and mud pies made it thinner

age made it lonely

sent to the brink of obscurity

but always there was hope

carried in through a chink of light

seeping through the cracks of the trunk

anticipation builds

as the sounds and smells of a new generation

burst upon the nursery

the forgotten cuddly toy

wishing with all its might to be remembered

awakened

finds joy as tiny hands pull it into the day and thrust it back to life

a new secret friend found