I snuggle up close to my little girl, Avery. She’s my best friend in the whole world. She tells me she loves me every day when she gently lifts me up, smooths my fur, and stares into my button eyes, a large smile on her lips.

    “Mr. Teddy!” She exclaims. “You need to brush your fur!” She usually finger combs my fur. I’ve known her since her parents gave me to her, just after she came home from the hospital. Since then, I’ve watched her grow and learn to talk and walk. Now she shows me her ballet moves from dance class.

    The happy days of our adventures bring tea parties with plastic cups, making flower crowns with her mother in the backyard, and hiding from goblins, ghouls, and evil pirates. Although, one day, she changes her pink polka dotted sheets and sets me on the ground. Instead of putting me next to her pillow, she puts me in her closet and shuts the door. Soon, her barbies, legos, and dolls follow. I watch through the slits in the closet door, weak rays of light manage to push through, but leave the rest of the closet in darkness.

    Each day passes slowly, eventually weeks, months, and years pass by, however, little separates them from one another. The little pieces of what I can see of Avery’s life confirm that she has grown up a lot. She brings friends over and they giggle and watch movies. She brings a boy home and I can hear them laughing and talking. Her mother dies, and the memories of flower crowns linger in my mind. I can smell hints of the sweet clover and fresh garden herbs. I wish I could tell Avery that her mother is still here. I can feel her presence watching her daughter. I share the same love for Avery in my heart.

    The autumns turn to winters, the winters turn to springs, and the springs fade into summer. The dust that eventually gathers on my fur resembles the snow on the trees outside, falling slowly, gathering softly. I am the only one in the closet who has life left. The others faded away after they thought their purpose was gone, and they weren’t loved.

    One late afternoon, I hear the pounding of footsteps in the hallway. The door to her room swings open, for the first time in many, many seasons, and I hear a giggle and the high-pitched voice of a little child.

    “Ava!” I recognize Avery’s voice anywhere. “Where are you going?” She picks up the little girl and says, “You’re my little girl, aren’t you?”

    I smile and wonder about all the years that have gone by. She had a little girl. My Avery grew up. I’m ready to let myself fade into the dark loneliness, when the closet door swings open. Avery stands, her hand on the door, looking at me in the near darkness. Suddenly, a bright wave of happiness swells over me and envelopes me.

    “Mr. Teddy?” Avery laughs. “I remember you.” She picks me up and wipes the dust off of my fur and straightens my bow. “Ava, look at Mr. Teddy! He was my favorite stuffed animal when I was a girl.”

    Ava laughs and reaches out her arms. “Here!” She giggles. “Please?”

    Avery smiles, tells her to be gentle, and hands me to Ava. Ava smiles and squeezes me tight. She kisses my fur and sneezes because of the dust. “I love him!” She declares.

    I’m taken forever out of the lonesome darkness of that dusty closet. Ava becomes my new best friend, but Avery still gives me a hug whenever she changes Ava’s sheets. Real, innocent love is never forgotten, only pushed away until it is needed. And, every time Ava is scared of the dark, or the thunder in the dead of night, or she cries because of a scrape or cut, I am needed. I will always be there for her.