Memories of my relationship with my Teddy: Was it just my Teddy?

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven: … A time to love and a time to hate.

Ecclesiastes 3: 1, 8

Was it just my Teddy?
Or was it my first love?
It was what I cried for
and wouldn't go to sleep without
Was it just a comforter?
Or was it my first love?
My father walked miles to return it before I slept
They knew its importance.

I made its mouth open wide 
I stuffed it with what I didn't want
It had buttons for eyes the glass ones long lost
It was restuffed through a cut down the middle
It was a Ted that had been through all a child could experience 
And it was my first love!

And then...

My sister was born and there in the cot was a brand new Ted and the one I loved was gone!

A gift from the new addition!
Not asked for!
Not accepted!
Not an anything!
A shelf sitter.
That is why he looks so good at 62!