BIMBO THE CLOWN
I am Bimbo's creator – and I seriously believe he and Gran and Grandpa are to blame for all the rescues that followed. When you have knitted the hundreds of stitches and made countless foreign-looking pieces, sewn them, stuffed them, and then sewn these fat little shapes together again in an exact sequence, you find you are deeply in love with your 'baby'. And it becomes impossible to imagine that anyone, anywhere could love these treasures so little that they discard and desert them. Aarghh . . . it's all too hard!
Bimbo is actually a twin. His brother lives a six hour drive away, in the city; his name is Glen; and he was made for a special little boy, Liam. Soon after Bimbo was finished and sitting in pride of place on our bed, Liam came to visit with his Mummy.
Liam was fine at first, totally involved in demolishing cakes and biscuits and his drink of milk. But after a bit, he became bored with our conversation and went on a little exploration of our house. Suddenly he returned, clutching Bimbo tightly to his chest, saying, "Look Mummy – it's Glen. He got here before us." Liam's Mummy was just as surprised. She hadn't known about my Bimbo.
''Isn't he clever?" Liam continued. "... and I thought I had left him behind."
Liam's Mummy and I had a hard time keeping our faces serious, but we managed somehow. When home time came, it took quite a bit of distraction (with a few lollies, as I remember) to coax Liam into the car without his Glen. Luckily, he nodded off on the journey home – only to wake up and find Glen had beaten Liam and his Mummy home, as well. And there he was, sitting on Liam's bed, impatiently waiting for another cuddle.
Bimbo is such a good sport. He never once let Liam know who he really was. In true Bimbo fashion, he just enjoyed the extra hugs and kisses and never complained once.
Another thing about Bimbo is what a silent sufferer he is. One night – or maybe several nights – Bimbo was attacked and badly mauled as he sat quietly on a shelf with the other Knitty Gritty Kids. Ferocious, greedy moths chewed into him quite viciously, under cover of darkness. If only he'd cried out, most of the damage could have been avoided. But Bimbo hates a fuss, even when enduring Life's most painful moments, and so he just buttoned his lip and toughed it out.
I didn't discover his injuries until I came to take his photo. Whilst arranging him to capture his best angle, I saw the full extent of his terrible wounds. If you look carefully at the photo above, you will see just a small part of the damage to his left hand and foot. Believe me, the worst is mostly hidden – from the front view.
Several spots on arms, back and feet required only small stitches, but the hands required serious surgery. And the feet? Total reconstruction of the left, and partial of the right. How thankful I was that I had been his creator, and could now become his Surgeon, the sole member of his operating team.
I am delighted to say that Bimbo came through his lengthy, intricate surgery in style, and after a short time of recuperation, has made a full recovery. Once again, his amazing bravery sees him absolutely refusing to discuss any part of his horrendous experience. He has simply put it all in the past, where all nightmares belong.
As to why he was chosen by those munching monsters, and none of the other Knitty Gritty Kids, I really can't say. Certainly, Bimbo is deliciously handsome – but edible?
Hmm-mm-m. I don't think so. Do you?
Excerpted from "Small Knitty Gritty Folk Tales (Small Folk Tales 2) [Kindle Edition]" by Christine Larsen. Copyright © 2013 by Christine Larsen. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Excerpts are provided solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Christine is - a wife, mother, grandmother, and writer. In a past life she has been – a Secretary, Lifeline telephone counsellor, Community Careworker – and a farmer throughout each of these. Today Christine is a born-again writer after countless rejections of her children’s stories over three decades ago. Between financially stretched times and 'busyness' raising kids, milking cows and farming, no space was left to believe in herself as a wordsmith. Her works were tucked away on a back shelf to gather much dust, until a series of unexpected events coincided with her ‘empty nest’ syndrome. At first Christine embraced a variety of crafting pursuits – and then gathered her courage and had another ‘go’ at writing. Success came with recognition and acceptance by Squidoo and Ezine Articles. Both platforms considered her words also worthy of praise and awards – reinvigorating her developing positive feelings sufficiently to embark upon an e-book self-publishing learning curve with Amazon’s Kindle. At last, Christine is celebrating the wonderful and unimagined results of her most passionate dreams and beliefs – like the power of words to teach small minds to never ever stop enquiring and learning about this vast and beautiful world of ours. If her words can influence and lead small folk to fully embrace this basic principle, Christine believes a greater degree of understanding, appreciation, tolerance and acceptance will be born and grow within each small heart. She is SO proud to be a small part of this.
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