One beautiful spring day
as their eyes slowly opened for the first time after their long sleep, Mr. and
Mrs. Bear had only one thought on their minds. Had Mother Nature finally
granted them their wish this year? Mr. Bear knew instinctively what his wife
was thinking and looked at her closely. “Well…?” his eyes questioned, “…..Do
you feel…different?” Mrs. Bear couldn’t be sure. Every spring when she awoke
she felt something. But was it the first signs of life inside her, or the knot
of fear that once again her prayers had not been answered?
She blinked at the
sunlight creeping through the entrance of the cave and made one more silent
wish before she fully opened her eyes and stretched her stiff body against the
carpet of stale leaves that had been her bed for the last three months. She
opened her nose and let in the first sweet perfumes of spring, which always
seemed to bring her to life. She paused, for she knew that beyond the entrance
of the cave, the glade and the forest around them was holding it’s breath in
anticipation of Mrs. Bear’s news. Each and every new mother of the forest lay
silently, containing their own personal joy, as they had learned to do with the
coming of each spring.
Mr. Bear gave Mrs.
Bear’s paw a warm squeeze and helped her to her feet. It was a daunting event,
stepping out into a forest crackling with hope. They loved their friends for
thinking about them like this, and they longed to let them know that at last,
this year, they could all celebrate together.
A stretch, a yawn,
one more loving squeeze and Mr. Bear led his wife back out into the world they
left quiet and white only a blink ago.
They were once
again greeted by the sun and the ever glorious palette of spring colors. The
glade was beautiful - the perfect place to raise a family. So many times Mrs. Bear had closed her eyes
and imagined their little cub bounding playfully in the grass, chewing clover,
chasing dragonflies until he was dizzy, and falling at her feet. She could
almost feel his soft, thick fur, warm from the sun- imagined burying her nose
into it and smelling his wonderful baby smell. And so often her imagination
allowed her to hold him in her arms while he slept and there she would stay for
hours, happy and warm until her mind lost focus and she was left empty and
cold, resigned to the painful fact that she may never actually meet that little
cub.
Together they
walked slowly down to the stream, past trees dripping with blossom and flowers
of every shade that seemed to sing with color.. As they walked, Mr. Bear’s
thoughts were for his wife. He looked into her eyes and saw what he had seen
too many times - the confusion of a soul crying out to know what happiness can
be found in motherhood and a relentlessly optimistic heart full of love and
hope, shadowed by a doubt that it was all in vain and her heart would be broken
once more.
He himself, often
dreamed of a son whom he could spend endless hours with, teaching how to fish,
hunt and scratch his back against trees. He would imagine the joy and
contentment on his wife’s face as she held her cub close and rocked him to
sleep. He wanted to know these moments for real, to walk proudly through the forest
with his son at his side. Surely this year.
They reached the
stream and began to drink. The thaw brought the forest a delicious supply of
crisp, fresh water, perfect for their dry, dusty mouths and they both let out a
gasp as the icy water refreshed them so suddenly. As they drank, Mr. Bear
spotted their breakfast. Half hidden behind a rock, suspended in the current,
and big enough for the two of them. Driven by instinct and hunger Mr. Bear
struck with such accuracy that within twenty seconds he and Mrs. Bear were
enjoying fresh trout on the warm bank of the stream and within another twenty
seconds the fish was gone.
They spent the
rest of the day visiting the friends they hadn’t seen since before their
hibernation, discussing baby names and calculating arrival dates. As always Mr.
and Mrs. Bear spoke of their cub as if the doubt and fear was not even there,
so as not to dampen the joy of the others around them. But as they left their
friends and wandered back to their cave that evening, the smiles they had so
bravely worn all day, quickly melted away. They had little hope that they would
be naming a cub this spring, but they would wait and see, as they always did,
because they couldn’t do anything else.
The wait felt as long
as every other year and the disappointment as crushing as the first time they realized
it was not to be. The following months passed so slowly as they longed for winter so they
could just curl up and go to sleep.
But the bears were
unaware of a miracle which was taking place. They had no idea of what their
endless wishing and longing was creating far above their heads. How each and
every time their hearts pleaded for a cub, that a brand new star was formed in
the night sky. They had prayed so hard and for so long that a cluster of stars had formed a
tiny constellation to the west. Mr. and Mrs. Bear could not see it, nestled in
a sky already littered with a billion tiny lights. They looked at the sky every
night. They cried beneath it in their deepest moments of pain. They had howled
their prayers at the vast blackness in the desperate hope that they would be
heard. They couldn’t have asked any harder. It left them shattered sometimes,
but all the while that formation of stars shone brighter every night as new
stars joined it.
It was the last
night of autumn. Mr. and Mrs. Bear were settled in their cave upon a fresh
carpet of dried leaves and moss. From her position on the floor, Mrs. Bear
could see a thin sliver of star speckled sky through the entrance of the cave.
As she lay there, she whispered her last prayer before sleep. “We have waited
and wished for so long. We are tired but we will not give up. If there is any
depth left to my soul, from there I pray that next spring will bring us a cub.” Her tired eyes closed, her husband curled up
close beside her and they both fell fast asleep.
At the moment
their bodies drifted into a deep slumber, the magic began. Up in the sky the
new cluster of stars began to sparkle brighter and brighter, their glow casting
a brilliant light over the land below. Then suddenly the stars began to move,
changing their positions as if an invisible hand was at work, arranging each
and every star until a shape was formed. The shape of a bear cub! Then
incredibly, the stars exploded with light and a solid shape burst from the
constellation and hung like an ornament against the velvet black. The shape
glowed and pulsed like a heartbeat, quicker and quicker, sending flashes of silver and gold across the
sky. Eventually, the pulsating began to slow and the light began to fade and
the galaxy was held in awe and wonder at what was taking place within it.
When finally the light
faded and the shape came to rest, and the Earth and Heavens dared open their
eyes again, there, bathed in soft, winter moonlight was a beautiful, sleeping
baby bear.
The cub opened his eyes, looked down upon
the forest far below and smiled. Then, as gently as a mother lays her baby in a
crib, the cub began to float down from the sky. Down, down, down he fell, drawn
by the love waiting for him in the cave. Closer and closer he came, through the
clouds, over the mountaintops, and down past the canopy of the forest and above
the glade, until finally he reached the entrance of the cave. And there he
stopped. So close they were now, that even though they were fast asleep, Mr.
and Mrs. Bear felt an incredible joy rush through them, which caused tears to
well in their eyes.
As he drifted into the cave, a moonbeam cut
a path through the dark and led the baby bear towards a space, inches above the
arms which longed to hold him. And finally he dropped, to settle cozy and safe
between his Mummy and Daddy.
The bears laid there together for the rest
of the winter, warmer than usual, and as the snow melted away with the changing
of the season, so too did the pain they had held for so long, for their hearts
knew that when they awoke, this spring would be the one they’d been waiting
for.
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