"A Bear in Our Bed"

This is a short – 228 words – whimsical essay meant to elicit a smile on this Holiday weekend. On Monday I expect to have another Thought of the Day, titled “AI – A View from a Tech Ignoramus.”

 

I do hope you celebrated the Fourth. With all of our faults as a nation, the United States is still the freest and most remarkable country ever founded. The Declaration of Independence is unique. It was written in the midst of the Age of Enlightenment and approved by Second Continental Congress, composed of roughly 60 delegates from thirteen colonies.

 

Its words, when read aloud or even in silence, still send chills: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by the Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness – that to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed…”

 

As we all know our nation is not perfect; it is a work in progress. But as we also know it was built on a solid foundation, something for which we, its citizens, should all be thankful.

 

Sydney M. Williams

 

More Essays from Essex

“A Bear in Our Bed!”

July 5, 2025

 

“Two’s company, three’s a crowd.”

                                                                                                                Old English Idiom

 

 

Making our bed recently, I noticed a third party – a bear – had climbed in once it was made. Where he came from, I have no idea, he just appeared. Whether his name – I assume he is male – is Paddington, Winnie, or just plain Teddy, I do not know, as we have never been properly introduced. During the day he nestles comfortably among six pillows. At night he retreats to a nearby chair. His ears are large and his eyes wide open, but he is discretion itself in that he never speaks, not even a whisper.

 

Nevertheless, it is disconcerting knowing my every movement is observed. When I get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom or to open a window, his eyes follow me. I sometimes wonder, is he an emissary from some foreign enemy, or is he a looking after Caroline’s well-being? I don’t know, and he won’t say. 

 

In the morning I make the bed under his watchful eyes. When my back is turned he climbs back up, snuggles among the pillows, arms akimbo, with a smug look his face. I have grown fond of him now and hope he stays.