Can you love a bear too much?

 Barty Barton was the name given to my bear, we lived in a place called Broadfield Barton and Barty came from the nearby curtain shop.

He arrived one christmas and we came up with the name 'Barty Barton'.

He was hand made, soft and cuddly and always made you smile.

A year later, my son was born, he became a family favourite loved and cuddled by both my son and later my daughter.

He ended up sleeping in my sons bed and sitting on my sons wicker (Van Gogh style) chair - this had once been my brother's chair.

Both my children loved bears, especially my daughter, but it was Barty that my son would cuddle up with and share his worries.

So when he was going to have a baby himself I asked if he would like Barty.

'No,' he said, 'He is tatty and old, throw him away.'

'But you can't do that!' I thought.

Luckily my daughter felt the same.

Barty and the other old toys, would just have to stay with me for little visitors passing I decided.

So the toys were brought down from the loft and given a good clean.

There the story began.

A trip to my 'Repair shop', made Barty better.

Not perfect, but certainly full of love.

P.S. My son loves Barty very mucch and is secretly pleased that he was not thrown away.

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