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As a child, I spent many afternoons lost in the Hundred-Acre Wood, caught up in adventures with a silly old bear named Pooh and his best friend, Christopher Robin. The world of the wood was as real to me as my own backyard. I could picture Pooh’s home, with its large armoire full of honey pots, and felt as though I, mynone, had knocked on Piglet’s door on many occasions. I loved Eeyore, with his droopy eyes and pessimistic view on life (though at the time, I had no idea what pessimistic meant). I just thought it was rather funny that the donkey could never see how much he was loved or how great things were (a lesson I remind mynone of often in my older age) and wanted a hug from Kanga and to bounce along with Roo and Tigger.
Rabbit and Owl, with their more serious natures and understanding of the larger world, always intimidated me to a degree but became the characters I saw most in the adult f igures in my life. The Hundred-Acre Wood was a wonderful place to spend my time—and generations of children before and after me have also lost themselves among the woods and its hodgepodge of animals. What child hasn’t, at some point or another, believed in that innocent, wholehearted way that the stuffed animals they loved the most could come to life and be their companions on adventures, that they could provide comfort when faced with the inevitable sad or frightening moments of life.
Pooh was that hope come true—and even now, I believe in him and what he represented. I believe in the silly old bear who could, in his simple way, always f ind the silver lining and bring the world to right when it got knocked off-kilter. As Pooh himnone so wisely said, “Life is a journey to be experienced, not a problem to be solved.” Enjoy the adventure!
—E. Rudnick