They didn’t like being treated roughly or thrown about.

“That’s how stitches get ripped,” Billie, the tough-talking blue bear, announced.

“I don’t know,” said Bruce, the tiny koala.  “It sounds like fun.”

“Bears aren’t suppose to fly,” Brutus, the little polar bear, reminded his new friend.  “We don’t have wings.”

Rosemary picked up a pillow and threw it across her bedroom.

“That’s how it starts,” Billie said.  “We could be next.”

“Me first!” Bruce called out.  “Me first!”

“Quiet, Bruce,” Brutus said.  “Don’t give her any ideas.”

Rosemary began to stomp around the room, muttering to herself.

None of the bears could make out what she was saying or why she was in a bad mood.  She just was.

She walked over to the pillow she had just tossed.  She picked it up and threw it back on the bed.  And she growled while she threw it.

“I wonder what made her so angry?” Brutus asked out loud.

“I don’t know,” Billie answered.  “But she sure is angry.”

Rosemary crossed over to the shelf where she kept her stuffed animals.  Billie and Brutus cringed.  Bruce looked hopeful.

During this whole time, Brenda, the brown bear, sat quietly, watching her friend stomp and throw things.  Brenda had been with Rosemary the longest, and she knew her friend as well as anyone.

When Rosemary got to the shelf, she grabbed Brenda by both front paws and raised her up in the air.

Brenda didn’t say a word.  She didn’t put up a fight.  She just looked Rosemary in the eye and let her friend know, that no matter why she was unhappy, the brown bear still loved her, and they would always be friends.

Rosemary stopped pouting right away and gave Brenda a big bear hug.  And Brenda hugged her right back, because that’s what Rosemary needed, a good, old fashioned bear hug.

“Does that mean we don’t get to go flying?” Bruce asked.

“Not this time,” Billie said with a smile.

THE END

Whether it was a visit to her grandparents over night, or just a quick drive to the grocery store, she wanted her bears with her.

Sometimes her parents said it was all right to bring all three.

Sometimes they told Rosemary she could bring only one.

Only one?  Which one?  How could she choose just one?  And what would the other two bears think about being left behind?

Rosemary tried to be fair and take a different bear each time she went out:  first Brenda, the brown one, then Billie, the blue one, and then Brutus, the small, white one.  But sometimes she would forget which one she took last, so she would start over and take Brenda.

Brenda liked this solution.  Billie and Brutus did not.

“Why does she always take Brenda?” Brutus complained.

“It was my turn,” Billie added.  “You know it was my turn.”

“It’s not my fault, if Rosemary forgets,” Brenda said, defending herself.

“No, but you take advantage of it,” Billie shot back.

The three bears continued to argue about car trips all the time, until they made Rosemary angry.

“If you three can not get along,” Rosemary announced, “I won’t take any of you on any more car trips.”

That made the bears stop fighting.  Instead, they began to pout.

It wasn’t that they liked to take car trips.  In fact, little Brutus often got car sick traveling in the back seat.  They just didn’t like being left behind.  They liked spending time with Rosemary.  They liked it when Rosemary hugged them.

After a while, they began bickering again, only this time in whispers.

“This is your fault,” Billie told Brenda.

“You made her angry with us,” Brenda answered back.

“You both made her mad,” added Brutus.

“That’s it!” Rosemary growled.  “If you three can’t get along, they’ll be no tea party this afternoon.”

That really silenced the bears.  It was one thing to be left behind.  It was far worse to be ignored when Rosemary was home.

No toy likes to be ignored.

“We’re sorry,” Brenda said to Rosemary.

“We won’t fight any more,” Billie added.

“Please don’t cancel the tea party,” Brutus pleaded.

Rosemary loved her stuffed bears, and she realized it was partially her fault that they were fighting.

“Oh, all right,” she said.  “If you stop this fighting, we’ll have a tea party that afternoon.”

The three bear stayed true to their word and did not fight with each other.

Later that day, Rosemary Potatoes laid out her tea cups on her play table.  And the three bears promised to remind Rosemary whose turn it was when the next car trip came up.

THE END

Brenda was the oldest.  She was medium sized, brown in color, with a yellow stomach.  Rosemary had gotten her first.  And she was the most lady like in her behavior.

Brutus was the youngest and the smallest.  He was a polar bear, which meant he was all white.  He was the most stubborn and the most innocent of the three.

Billie was the middle bear.  She was all blue, except for her white stomach and paws.  She was the biggest of the three, but she was also the most sensitive to criticism.

Now brown or white are perfectly normal colors for a bear.  But blue is most unusual. And unlike Brenda or Brutus, who had been purchased in a proper toy store, Billie had been won at the county fair, when Rosemary’s father knocked over six wooden bottles with one baseball.

Of course, Rosemary didn’t care.  She loved all three bears all the same.  But Billie cared.  It made her feel different.  She disliked being blue.  She wanted to be a normal color.

One day, Rosemary left her colored markers out on her play table, where she held her tea parties with the bears.

Billie looked over the many different colors.  There was red and yellow and blue and green and orange and purple.  And there was black.

Billie had heard of black bears.  She had seen pictures of them in books and on television.  Black seemed like a good choice.

So, Billie picked picked up the black marker and began to color her left leg.

“What are you doing?” Brutus asked.

“I’m becoming a black bear,” Billie told him.

“Really?” said the littlest bear.  “Can you do that?”

“Sure.”

Brutus picked up another black marker and looked at it.  “Can I be a zebra?”

Billie looked over at the little white bear.  “Why would you want to be a zebra?”

“I like their stripes,” Brutus replied.

“You can’t be a zebra,” Billie told him.  “You’re a bear.  Bears are not zebras.”

So, Brutus picked up a red marker.  “What about a fox?  Could I be a fox?”

“No,” Billie told him.  “You can’t be a fox.  You’re a bear.  Bears are not foxes.”

Then Brutus picked up green marker.  “What about frog?  Could I be a frog?”

“You can’t change who you are, simply by changing the color of your fur,” Billie growled at the polar bear.

“Then why do you want to color your fur black?” Brutus asked.

Billie looked down at her left leg.  It was still her leg.  Nothing had changed, except that part of it was black.  Billie realized painting herself black was not going to change anything, and she no longer wanted to be a black bear.

Just then, Rosemary’s mother came into the room to collect Rosemary’s dirty clothes for the laundry.  She saw Billie sitting motionless on the play table with black marker ink on part of her left leg.

She shook her head and tossed Billie into the laundry basket.

Fortunately, the colored markers had washable ink.  Rosemary’s mother soaked Billie’s left leg in soapy water, then, later, scrubbed the black completely off her fur.

When Rosemary came home from school, her mother scolded her for marking up her teddy bear with a colored marker.

Poor Rosemary had no idea what she was talking about.

THE END

One day, her mother took Rosemary to a hair salon. Rosemary brought along Brutus. Brutus was the smallest of her three bears, barely six inches tall. He fit perfectly on her lap, while Rosemary looked at the picture magazines in the waiting area.

Rosemary liked the hair salon. She liked being fussed over by the people there. They always complimented her on what she wore and howpretty she looked. It made Rosemary feel special. When it was her turn, Josephine, the hair stylist, greeted Rosemary, then escorted her to the sink in the back, where she washed her clients’ hair.

“Why don’t you put your toy bear on the little chair over here, so he doesn’t get wet?” Josephine suggested. Rosemary set Brutus on the little chair, where he could watch his friend lean back over the sink and get her hair wet, then soapy, and then wet again. Rosemary did not seem to mind it. In fact, she giggled.

Josephine then escorted Rosemary to another chair that went up and down. The two of them talked and talked, while Josephine clipped Rosemary’s hair with her scissors. And when Josephine was finished, Rosemary looked beautiful.

Rosemary crossed to the front of the salon, where her mother paid Josephine. Then Rosemary and her mother left . . . without Brutus.

“Rosemary,” Brutus called out. “Wait! Don’t forget me!” Brutus yelled and yelled, but nobody noticed him. Only Rosemary could hear him, and she was no longer there.

Finally, Josephine spotted him still sitting there. “Rosemary’s toy bear.” She picked him up. “Well, I’ll just put you in the lost and found box.” Josephine placed poor Brutus in a cardboard box under the front counter, which already contained a book and a baseball cap.

Brutus hated boxes. He hated being closed in. Rosemary once put him in a suitcase for a plane trip. He really hated that. “Rosemary!” he called again.  But she didn’t come. So, he decided, if he was going to escape, he would have to do it himself.

Brutus reached up as far as he could, but his stubby front legs were not long enough to reach the open top of the box. So, he climbed up on top of the book, but he was still too short. Then he tried to crawl up on top of the baseball cap, but a voice from under the hat surprised him. “Hey!”

Brutus raised the side of the cap and discovered another stuffed bear. He was even smaller than Brutus and gray in color. “Hold still, mate, so I can get out.”  The new bear scrambled out from under the cap. “I’ve been under that cap for days!” he exclaimed.

“How did you get under there?” Brutus asked.

“My friend, Linda, left me behind in the salon, so they put me in this box. Then they threw in that cap, and it landed on top of me. I was too small to push it off.” The little bear offered his front paw in friendship. “I’m Bruce.”

The white bear shook his paw. “Brutus. What kind of bear are you?”

“I’m not a bear. I’m a koala. I just look like a bear. I’m from Australia.”

“Australia?”

“Linda bought me in a shop there, when she was on vacation with her parents. Then she left me here in this salon. I’ve been trapped in this box ever since.”

“Well, now that I’m here, maybe we can get out together.”

Brutus picked up his new little friend and held him up as high as he could, but it was still not enough to reach the edge of the box.

“If we can’t climb out, maybe we can topple over the box,” Brutus suggested. “If we push together.” Bruce and Brutus began to push with all their might against one side of the box. They pushed and pushed, but nothing happened.

“It’s no use,” Bruce sighed. “We’re going to remain in this box forever.” “At least we won’t be alone,” Brutus added. “Bruce smiled, then clasped his front paws onto one of Brutus’s.

After a while, Brutus heard a familiar voice. “Did I leave my little white bear here?”

A hand reached into the box and grabbed hold of Brutus, with Bruce still hanging onto his front paw. Rosemary was overjoyed. “Brutus!” She hugged poor Brutus tightly, then thanked Josephine for looking after him.

Then she noticed the second bear. “Who’s this?” “This is my new friend, Bruce,” Brutus told her. Rosemary tried to pull Bruce off Brutus’s paw, but both of them held firm.

“No!” Brutus said. “We can’t leave him. He’s my friend.”

“They seem to like one another,” Josephine said. “You can have him, if you want. He’s been here for weeks. The former owner seems to have forgotten all about him.”

So, Rosemary brought both of them home, where Brutus introduced Bruce to Brenda and Billie.

THE END

The first bear had been a Christmas present.  Her name was Brenda.  Brenda was brown, with a yellow tummy.

The second bear was named Billie.  Billie was bigger than Brenda, and she was blue, an odd color for a bear.  Rosemary’s father had won Billie at the county fair.

The youngest bear was also the smallest.  He was a polar bear, which meant he was all white.  At first, Brenda and Billie made fun of the new bear’s size and color, so Rosemary named him Brutus to make him fierce, fierce enough to stand up for himself.

Rosemary liked to have tea parties with her bears, and they seemed to enjoy it as well.

Rosemary laid out her cups and saucers on her play table, then set Brenda and Billie on two of the chairs and Brutus on the table, because he was too short to reach the table from a chair.

Rosemary’s favorite pretend tea was called Nefertiti Tea.  She came up with the name, herself.  She liked to say it out loud.  “Would you like some more Nefertiti Tea?”

Her favorite pretend snack was an orange cookie.  That was also her favorite real snack.  Sometimes her mother had some orange cookies for Rosemary to serve at her tea party.  Sometimes she did not.

Billie loved tea and always drank it down in one gulp.

Brenda preferred to sip her tea, in a ladylike manner.

Brutus slurped his tea from the tea cup while it rested on the table.

Brenda and Billie made fun of Brutus and his manners, but he could not help himself.  He was too small to pick the tea cup up to drink from it.

Rosemary told Brenda and Billie not to laugh at little Brutus, but they did it anyway.  And it hurt his feelings when they did it.

So, Rosemary asked her mother to take her to the store one day, where Rosemary bought the tiniest tea cup and saucer she could find.  It was much smaller than the other tea cups in her set, but it was just the right size for little Brutus.

He smiled, as he picked up the tea cup and drank his tea, just like the others.

Brenda and Billie stopped making fun of Brutus.

That made Rosemary smile.

THE END