RUPERT THE BEAR
Within the farthest memories of my childhood, this young pal and his wanderings came from time to time in my memory, taking me again to this soft, dreamy place where Rupert made the chilly winter days become sunny and exciting, taking me with him to cover stories full of colors and adventures.
My father was very condescending with me by giving me those books. He knew quite well that I wasn’t able to understand the readings. My mother tongue was Spanish, not English. Maybe he thought I would be amused just watching the full colored pictures...who knows. But somehow, I could understand the story and its details, translating literally some words and expressions: “Acá dice ésto,¿Ves papá?”...
My father scratched his head wondering how on earth this little girl in her five years old could do that, but for me, it was natural. Period. No need for explanations. After all, friendship surpasses any barrier.
When life hit me along life I recalled my friend Rupert, his yellow scarf stirred by the breeze while he ran through the prairies in one of his adventures. His idyllic world made my life more bearable as a bit of his joy lifted me up just by peering into my dark window and saying:
“Hello, old friend...What’s wrong?...Come on, Cheer up!. Look at the sun that awaits for us...Letś be kids again for a while!”
Rupert is my magic window, my balm when things get twisted, he fills me up with optimism, and helps me keep going.
It may sound silly, but we should never stop being children somehow. For you, my Rupert savior may be an old childhood school pal, or any other memory or experience. That’s fine. Treasure it. Keep it safe. Call it when you need it. Life may be hard, but good friends are forever.
