My hero is my mom.
When I got my own police station, she knitted me a teddy bear. Honestly, I was expecting a coffee mug. I told her, “Mum, I’m too old for a teddy bear.”
She smiled and said, “First, you’re not—no one is. Second, it’s not for you. It’s a trauma bear, for any child you think might need it.”
Three months later, I met a little boy whose world was falling apart in the chaos of sirens and flashing lights. I told him I had an important job for him: there was a scared bear in my police truck that needed looking after. That boy clutched the bear tightly, kept it safe, and took it home.
Since then, Mom has knitted hundreds more—trauma bears for victims of crime, quilts to warm those battling addiction, tiny booties and mittens for premature babies. There’s something in her stitching, a kind of grandma magic.
The photo is me dropping off another bundle of bears and quilts. Mom is my hero. She’s not on Facebook, but if you’d like to send her a message, I’ll happily pass it along. ❤️
Credit to the respective owner ✍️