The Bear at the Bus Stop

The morning after Christmas is dark and viciously cold - yesterday's rain is now frozen and slick on the streets and in the gutters and the azaleas and grass are stiff with frost and ice.  The dogs hesitate at the back door then make a run for it except for the little one who backs up slowly, keeping one eye fixed on me until she's safely out of reach, then darts for the warmth of the bedroom and her nest of pillows.  I think this evasive action demonstrates remarkably good sense and I don't blame her in the slightest.  Despite the last four days of being off work, of sleeping and reading and retreating, I would join her if I could.  As she well knows, it can be a cold world.

On the drive to work, traffic is so light that it makes me wonder if I'm going back on the right day and that may be why - I think later - that I noticed the girl and the teddy bear.  She's standing at the bus stop, bundled up from head to toe and clutching a cigarette in one gloved hand and a brown, four foot tall stuffed bear with a bright red ribbon 'round its neck in the other.  In addition to the ribbon, the bear is wearing denim overalls with silver buckles on the shoulder straps and holding a hand painted sign that reads HONK IF YOU LOVE JESUS.
No one does but a police car pulls to the curb, lights flashing in the chilly morning air, and after a very brief conversation with the two officers, the girl and her bear are not unkindly escorted into the cruiser and taken away.  The light changes and what traffic there is resumes its morning commute.  There are, I notice, more than one or two tolerant smiles on the faces of the drivers as they pass through the intersection.

I hope it ends well for the girl and her bear.  I hope they're not homeless or escaped from some halfway house or sent to a shelter.  I hope the police will be kind, that the doctors will listen, that no one will take her bear since it may be the only anchor she has.  It's easy to overlook the lost and forgotten people but a four foot bear at a bus stop does  get noticed.  And there are times when the best thing a good friend can do is be nearby, stuffed and silent, but nearby.