Bear was a gift from my Grandparents when my son was born. He joined a collection of various other stuffed animals in the nursery, until the day after my Grandad died, when my then 14-month old son picked Bear out from the pile and has never let him fall far from his sight since. I am not sure I believe that my Grandad paid a supernatural visit to my son, or if it is merely a coincidence, but the timing both spooked and comforted us all. Bear sleeps next to our now 4-year old boy. He comes on holidays with us. He joins us at the breakfast table. Bear is another member of our family. As far as our son is concerned, Bear also has equal voting rights when it comes to making important decisions over whether to have Cheerios or Weetabix for breakfast; or watch Jake and the Neverland Pirates or The Tigger Movie again. Bear has been there to hold on to when our son has been sick, tired, or inconsolable over not being allowed to have chocolate buttons for lunch. Bear has his own favourite bedtime stories and his own favourite toys.