Oh how I love Winnie The Pooh.

Silly old Bear.

He is sadly lacking in intellect yet such a dear friend to his woodland neighbors.  The group of misfit creatures who call the Hundred Acre Wood home, offer companionship, but also kindness and counsel in good times and bad.  Interestingly, what seems to be dreadful misfortune to one, is rationally processed by others, which helps the one who is troubled to work through his feelings.  In the end, as they skip or run on their merry way, the situation seems, not so dire.

Friends are good.  A.A. Milne did a fine job of his story telling of life at Pooh Corner.  I am grateful to him for the smiles over the years.  Innocent, simple, sweet stories.

I arrived at the new classroom.  It was my first day and it was grade two.  Unfortunately, I was a month late, having just moved from a different town a province over.  Fear struck as we, my mother and I, arrived at the door and the teacher welcomed me in.  Fear is a terrible thing, especially when you are a child of seven.  

Mrs. Thompson was her name and she had a voice like none I had ever heard.  She was from England and when she introduced me to the others, each in their own place, she was kind and she smiled.

The empty desk half way down and four rows over, waited for me and 30 pairs of eyes watched as I seated myself in the attached chair.  It didn’t take long of course, for me to learn the names and begin to find my place in the society of Beaverlodge (yes, that was the name of our town) Elementary School.   Some would be my friends and some would not.  There was no such thing as bullying in those days.  At least, it wasn’t recognized.  I was bullied, from time to time.  But I know for certain I was guilty myself far too often.  Oh I didn’t hurt people, on the outside.   Just on the inside.  Their hearts.  I’m sorry now.    

I remember the days when…Oh I wish I could remember her name, would tell me to watch out because she and her friends were going to beat me up on the way home.

 I took a different route.  

Would she have hurt me?  I don’t know.  Maybe but maybe not because there were also days when she would sit next to me at story time.  Nastiness was just part of childhood.  I didn’t like it.  But I learned to be kind because I knew first hand how it felt when people were unkind.  I learned how to show empathy when new children came to our classroom.

 Even as a grownup, kindness can be elusive.  It takes effort.  Worthwhile.

Well, my first day in Mrs. Thompson’s grade two class, in the afternoon, before it was time to go home, she called us to the rug in the corner.  We sat in a circle on the floor and she sat on a chair.  There was a pile of books on the table next to the chair.  She chose one and began to read.

 I think it was my introduction to Winnie the Pooh.  

It is possible the Blustery day was imprinted on my brain because it was my first time on that rug.  Maybe because it was actually a blustery Fall day and it all just fit so well together.  Whatever the reason, I remember it fondly and have a warm feeling whenever I  hear a quote or read a sentence or see a picture of those friends from Pooh Corner.

Remembrances on a Blustery Day.

On this particular Blustery day, many years later, I am here in my kitchen in the city.  Leaves falling from trees and an oven ready to warm, impel me to bake something.  Today’s offering was Cranberry Apple Muffins.

I made them to take to Bible Study this morning.  I got up early to mix them together and bake them and they were good and I will certainly make them again.