There's a Fine Line Between Collecting and Mental Illness

In my profile, I describe myself as a "pack-rat." Alas, it's true but only in the sense that I consider myself less a pack-rat and more a... collector. I still own my first Barbie, I have my own pink baby shoes, the first toy I remember owning (Cecil the Sea Serpent plush - I later found his friend, Beanie!) and... my first teddy bear.

"Cubbie" was a gift from Santa in 1967 and he arrived with a note asking me to take good care of him and not to throw him on the ground. I guess Santa had had a peek into my messy room.... I also have a photo of that particular Christmas and of me, with Cubbie. Cubbie now resides in a cabinet full of bears, most of them older than he is but none less loved. They are my "hug" of bears and I am a self-confessed "Arctophile," that is, a bear collector.

I bought my first antique bear in 1985, in Arlington, Vermont. He's an American "stick" bear (which referred to the straight shape of their arms and legs) probably made in the 1920's. I was enchanted by the idea that this small bundle of mohair, straw and shoe buttons brought happiness to a child once - or maybe to more than one child - and I wondered what stories he could tell. Did Arlington (named for where I found him) occupy a place of pride on someone's pillow? How many secrets were whispered into this tattered, lop-sided ear, now hanging by four threads? The fur is rubbed off on one side of his head....from too many kisses or hugs? And what about this worn off spot on his tummy, just about the size of a child's thumb?

Over the years (and thanks to Ebay - Master Enabler to all of us bitten by the collecting bug) I've collected many bears. Some extremely old, like Eddie, who just celebrated his 102nd birthday. Like Eddie, most of them are German, manufactured by the "Cadillac" of bear companies, Steiff. Some are very valuable and some are just like Cubbie, a birthday or Christmas present, meant simply to be a child's toy. But ALL of them have stories: of long-ago trips across the ocean, eager and desperate hugs, tears dripped onto their soft faces, and dreams whispered into furry, tattered ears.

Just so you know, Arlington still listens...