When I was a little boy I used to spend every day with my Granny and Papa Hall. They would pick me up from school and they would take me to their house until my mom would get off work and come to pick me up. I loved them and they loved me. It was a great arrangement in my book. I got to stay with two people who would play with me and spoil me and in exchange I would sit in their laps and hug and kiss them. Sweet Deal. The only down side that I could find with the arrangement was that they felt that I needed a nap in the afternoon (usually about the time that Granny's "stories" would come on) and I felt that I was completely rested up!! I would lay on the couch and close my eyes and try to sleep. Usually Papa would take pity on me and would "wake" me after about fifteen minutes of my squirming and sighing. He would then take me on walks in the woods or we would sit on his front porch and talk about catching alligators in a ditch that was close to his house. In reality the nearest alligator was probably about an hour away in the Okefenokee Swamp but he and I would swear that we saw them lurking in the six inches of water that flowed through that old ditch! It was during our talks and walks that he introduced me to Sugar Bear.
Sugar Bear was a bear that lived in the woods and he loved good little boys and if he ever met one he would lick the little boy's face to get his sugar. However, if he met up with a mean little boy or one that did not listen to his grandparents then he would eat him!! I realize that nowadays people would think that this was a cruel thing for a grandparent to tell a little kid but I thought it was wonderful! I KNEW that I was a good little boy (no matter how many spankings that I received) because my Papa told me so. It was with this knowledge that I grew to love stories about this bear and his exploits. Papa would take me for walks and show me where he slept and where he ate. He would show me where he fished or where he had ate crackers. Papa watered my imagination with his stories and his time. As I grew older and our family added other cousins and a little brother he would take them along on our walks and we would all hear about this crafty, mysterious bear. I was about eight or nine when my Papa died. I will never forget my mom telling me that he had went to heaven. I was devastated. Who would help me catch those gators? Who would tell me about Sugar Bear?
I realized that it would be me. I would take over the stories about Sugar Bear. I would tell of his exploits. My cousins and little brother would walk with ME and I would spin the stories of his late night explorations and would point out where he fished and took naps. Sugar Bear is now a part of my children's lives. I take them for walks and tell them stories. I answer their thousands of questions about him. He takes them on rides at night in their dreams and they know this because they wake up with leaves in their beds on those nights he stops by. He leaves them notes and tells them how proud he is of their accomplishments. I am watering their imaginations with MY stories and MY time. My Papa's legacy of love lives on with every story I tell . . .
