Mysterious Theologian: Ben
Blessed are you, worn and dirty Stuffed Animal. When the night is dark and monsters lurk, you are my guardian who does not sleep. When the fever comes and doctors leave, you are the healer who gladly soaks my sweat into your stitches. When my parents fight and I flee to my room, you are the comforter who dries my tears with felted paws. When it is my birthday and I am alone, you are the guest who always comes to my party, eager to hide crumbs in your fur for later. You smell of the shame of wet beds, the triumph of trees climbed, the joy of mud wallowed. You are more precious to me than my final piece of candy, and yet when I met my very best friend, I will give you to that person. Because you are love. Amen.