Bear Named Ben

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I have a bear on my wall that watches over me while I sleep. It says “hello” to me in the morning. It greets me every time I walk into my room, and expresses sorrow when I leave. Every night when I go to bed it tells me “sweet dreams,” and then while I sleep he takes care of me. It listens to my stories, and I hold it when I cry. I tell it all my secrets and I know it will take my side. My bears names is Ben, and the cloth that he is wearing once belonged to my dad, Sergeant First Class Benjamin Miller.
He wears the army camo, with the colors green and tan. He has no eyes to see with and only droopy ears to hear out of. He has a green ribbon around his neck and on his chest is printed, “U.S. ARMY.” My bear sits on a triangular, wood box, which he protects. In this box holds cloth of red, white, and blue. It has thirteen red and white stripes to represent the colonies men fought to protect during the birth of our country. The fifty white stars on the blue represent the states that men, like my dad, fought to protect and continue to protect today.
The flag of the United States of America represents the freedoms that we as Americans have each and every day. And my bear is the symbol of all the men that fought for our country to protect those freedoms. It’s a symbol of all the heartache that families, like my own, have gone through. It reminds me of how, somewhere, my dad is always watching me and protecting me. It’s the reminder of all the very few memories I still have of him. It helps me reach back into my childhood and bring back the happy memories of the times I spent with my dad. It’s a time machine that takes me back to all the places we went. Although, it’s not quite as clear as stepping back into the past, it is more like watching my life on television but the reception keeps cutting in and out.

It takes me back to the children’s museum. It was me, my dad, and a little boy, who I now know to be my brother. There was paint on our faces. My face was dry and hurting from the paint. I remember the internal battle I had about whether I should leave the paint on because it was cute and fun, or to take it off because it hurt my face. We had painted our faces ourselves with something like wet chalk. I remember there was a walls that were textured like a mountain, and I kept trying to climb them, but I could never make it. My dad stood by the whole time, watching and laughing, but always letting me have my fun. There was a room where they had recreated the cockpit of an airplane and the driver’s seat of a semi. You could climb into both and pretend you were driving or flying. You were in full control, but while I was having my fun, there was my dad. He was watching over me and playing with me.
There was also that time that my dad took me to the mall. In the mall was a merry-go-round. It had all the animas merry-go-round needs. It had the horses, the lions, the unicorns, and all the other merry-go-round animals. I remember we rode it more times than I could count. It didn’t matter that all we were doing was going in a circle listening to annoying music; all that mattered was that I was with my dad and I was having the time of my life. I look for years for the mall that had that merry-go-round in it. I was always trying to find the fact or fiction in my memories, but that one is real. I know it and so does my bear. He reminds me of those memories every time I see him. My bear stands watching me, protecting me. My bears name is Ben, and my dad’s name is Ben. To me they are the same, and I love them.





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