Little toys for little people

My friends found it bizarre that I had entered the soft toys section of the store and left with my arm full of lovely, cuddly and colourful creatures of all shapes and sizes.

There was a cute crocodile, measuring almost a metre long, with a cute little lizard in between its jaws (maybe the image doesn't sound very cute, but the toy itself really is...). There was another crocodile, a female one, with what looked like wings on its back and a light blue dress. I grabbed a dog with outstretched arms that was soft to the touch, and so very huggable. And there was a little dog with soft, soft brown fur and little paws...

"Who are they for?" my friends kept on asking. With a small, mischievous smile, I only said that the toys will make some child very happy. Or at least that was the hope.



I quickly proceeded to the check out before my friends could follow, and almost immediately after buying, I put the toys, one by one, into a big transparant box, which I caught my eyes earlier as I walked into the store. As each animal entered the hole at the top of the donation box, I silently wished that the toy would bring a child, wherever s/he may be, much happiness and comfort. In the run-up to Christmas, $1 of every toy purchased is automatically donated by the store to help educate children around the world. And the box, swimming with beautiful and wonderfully colourful animals with infectious smiles and open arms, is a collection for local and international organisations that work with children.

I walked through the store, but didn't really feel the need to buy anything. I have everything I could possibly need, and want. And so much more! But as soon as I glanced at a poster advertising the great cause, I was reminded again that there are so many in the world who have so little... and reminded again what little it takes to give a child the simple, simple pleasure of having a toy to play with, to grow up with.


I grew up with soft animals, and still remember countless nights lying next to one which, despite not being able to speak when spoken to or to hug back when hugged, offered me much consolation and warmth. Even today, I have a modest collection of soft animals, one or two of which occupies space on my bed while I sleep to keep me company. Though the soft toy cannot replace lost parents or take away the pain and trauma of separation from loved ones, the permanent smiles, the softness of the fabric can take anyone to a place of dreams, a place where the world is safe and comfortable. If only temporarily...


I may never see the lit up suprised faces of the children who will receive the toys. I may never know where the toys will find a home, or whether the little creatures will ever be named. But I hope that a little gift will show a child somewhere in the big, big world that there are strangers who think of them, and strangers who care.