NEW CASTLE —
Please allow me to introduce you to the amazing Mr. Penguin.
He is a 7-inch tall, plush penguin who has been my daughter's constant companion for the past five years. He appeared in the mix of toys while she was still an infant and has remained a constant fixture to this day.
No one is sure of the origins of Mr. Penguin or how he came to be a part of our family. Through many rounds of questioning, no one has confessed to giving the toy to my daughter, nor have I been able to find another like it anywhere. There are no tags or defining characteristics on his quaint black and white body.
He is a simple penguin, to whom my daughter has latched onto. There has been a parade of other animal “friends” through our home, but most eventually end up in the bottom of the toy box or in a bin somewhere, long forgotten.
But not Mr. Penguin. He has outlasted several real cats, two houses, and still spends most nights tucked under her precious little arms. Nestled against her, standing guard and making her feel safe and secure as only a stuffed animal friend can.
Over the years, he has become beaten and tattered from all the love he has received in return for his undying commitment. His neck is kind of limp now, since the stuffing inside has slowly begun to disintegrate. His colors are not as bright as they used to be, partly from the many rides in Grandma's washing machine and the long days of adventure and imagination he has inspired and shared.
Mr. Penguin has made it to the beach both in Erie and the Jersey Shore several times. He has made the trip to Grandma's in Philly countless times. He also has made many trips to the grocery store, church, and has even been known to sneak a ride to school in a certain little girl's backpack, even though the school has strict policy against penguins.
He gives himself away every time. You can see his head and beak peaking out from under the top flap of the backpack, because everybody knows a penguin has to breath.
He also has had every imaginable injury and illness that a 5-five-year-old who dreams of being a veterinarian could fathom. He has had broken wings and legs. He even had several bad colds and belly aches, too. But Mr. Penguin has fought hard to get back on his feet so that he can further entertain and comfort my daughter.
As she grows older and more mature, I'm sure Mr. Penguin will find a neat place on a shelf, or be retired to a box in the attic. And I know the day will come when my daughter will no longer want to hold my hand or run toward me screaming, “Daddy, Daddy!” the moment I walk in the door. However, I pray that she can somehow hold on to some of that innocence long into her adult life.
Hopefully, Mr. Penguin will be a part of that, outlasting the broken hearts and the disappointments that I am sure she will face in her lifetime. Hopefully, she can look at the tattered, old stuffed animal in her dorm room or first apartment and remember the simpler times and reflect on how happy a silly, little toy made her feel.
I also hope that she will know how thankful I am for Mr. Penguin, who was her unwavering friend. Through thick and thin, he was there, being her protector, her friend, and her companion, even when I couldn't be.
Thank you, Mr. Penguin.
Josh Drespling
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About Josh Drespling: Josh is a graphic designer at The News. His blog will appear each Sunday.
Discussion
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