Matt Ranftle

Betty the Bear

Ripped, tattered and torn, Betty spent his days sliding across dirty floors as he was carelessly pulled along

by a little boy with long blonde hair. Dubbed the name Betty because of my inability to pronounce “Teddy”, the

small brown bear was one of my closest companions as a child. To me, Betty was perfect; however he was unique in

that his perfection lied in his imperfections. When I first opened Betty on Christmas he already had a hole in his

side. Seeing the obvious manufacturing defect my Grandma promised to get me a new bear. However, when I

awoke the next morning to an untouched “perfect” teddy bear I refused to even consider it. Betty was special to me

even with all of his flaws and I am still this way because one of my strongest characteristics is my ability to look

beyond the surface and see people for who they truly are.

This rip was the first of many as my demanding toddler lifestyle began to show. Betty constantly sustained

new rips and stains from my everyday adventures. These can reflect my adventurous personality and how I never

enjoy being static. Instead I am always curious and always looking for new things to experience and learn. To most

people, rips and tears are a sign of uselessness and worthlessness. But to me the rips were not a major concern

because I knew they could always be repaired. With every rip my Mom and I would sew on a patch, and after some

time only small pieces of the original fabric peeked out from behind the layers of stitching. These constant repairs

show my ability to rebound and recover no matter what adversities are thrown towards me. Just like Betty, I can be

“patched” and return just as before. As Betty obtained these scars he never complained, and quite honestly I don’t

believe he would even if he could. With each scar a new lesson is learned; “Don’t try to give Betty grape juice” or

“Don’t let the dog play with Betty.” When I face obstacles or encounter difficulty in life now I try never to

complain, instead I always try to learn from my negative experiences.

One time Betty got caught in a car door and consequently got his whole arm ripped off. Although he was

able to be sewn back together, his spongy snow-like stuffing was exposed. This softness beyond his hard

dilapidated outside revealed another side to Betty. This can relate to my personality because I can be sensitive and

soft; however this is often hidden behind a rugged outer appearance.

As a child, the reason I was so close to this inanimate ball of fur was because it became my greatest source

of comfort. Betty was always there to hug or soak up my tears as I transferred my fear into him. Now I often find

myself playing the role that Betty played for me so many years ago. I am a good listener and I often offer comfort

and advice to those in need. Betty was constantly by my side no matter what. Although he was there for many of

the negative moments when I needed comforting, Betty was also there for many of the fun times that I experienced

as a toddler. This close relationship, and the fact that I did everything with Betty, is similar to the close bonds that I

share with many of my current friends.

As I grew older I soon depended less and less on Betty. Eventually I stopped carrying him around and set

him aside. Betty now resides on the top shelf in my closet cramped along with old cloths and a pile of forgotten

letters. Betty, like me, would rather be elsewhere. Gloomy Long Island is no place of an adventurous person like me

who wants to travel and see the world, just as a closet shelf is no place for a vibrant bear such as Betty. As a child

Betty represented more to me than just a stuffed animal. Traits from Betty’s characterization strongly mirror many

aspects of my personality now. I may have outgrown Betty, but sometimes even though we think we've grown up,

our inner kid is just hiding behind the adults that we have come to be.