Unraveled

A boy and his lion doll.

When I was a young boy of about four or five, I had a stuffed lion doll that I considered to be my best friend. It was small, about the size of a soft ball. It was old and worn, the stitches unraveled in some places to reveal the dingy cotton inside, but I loved it. I took it with me everywhere I went. As a child who kept mostly to himself, having a companion who demanded nothing but love and required absolutely no verbal communication was, to say the least, perfect.

Being so young, I had no concept of loss. I always believed that my little lion doll would always be there with me through thick and thin. But as time goes on, cotton spills and fabric tears. Yarn unravels and black button eyes become undone. And when my brave little lion doll finally fell apart, I realized then that I will not be young forever. Time stands still for no one, certainly not for a boy and his stuffed lion doll.

Author's Note

Enjoy.