Mary Louise And Her Silent Companions
Children's Story
Mary Louise was a little bit lonely. Not completely lonely, but just a little bit. With no brothers or sisters, Mary Louise spent quite a lot of time playing by herself. Although not completely by herself, for Mary Louise had a number of silent companions, who were a great comfort to her.
Every night when she went to bed, Mary Louise would line up her silent companions on the foot of the bed, and give them a big kiss. Then she'd sigh happily, climb into bed and fall asleep very quickly, for she knew her silent companions were looking out for her.
Mary Louise loved all her silent companions, for they were all different. There was Lion Cub, who ought to have been fierce and growly, but was actually just soft and cuddly. Then there was Monkey, who had awfully long arms and a silly, lopsided grin. Both of these had been sewn by Mary Louise's Grandma, several years ago.
Next to Monkey sat Ragbag, who was a dog of indeterminate origin. Mary Louise had bought Ragbag herself at the church jumble sale. She'd paid five pence for him, and her mother had tried very hard to persuade her to ditch Ragbag in the dustbin. "You don't know where he's been," Mary Louise's mother had said. "Ugh! He's so dirty! At least let me wash him." But Mary Louise had shouted and kicked and put on her parts (an old Norfolk expression), and Ragbag had stayed, unwashed.
The next in line to Ragbag was Blue Ted, who pretended to be a Teddy bear but who had bright blue fur which was long and straggly and rather itchy if you got too close for too long. But Mary Louise loved him anyway.
All these silent companions were ranged on the lap of Panda, who was almost as big as Mary Louise herself. But the final silent companion was the one Mary Louise loved best. Chrysanthemum, the rag doll with bright pink plaits, had been with Mary Louise from the beginning. They'd shared a cot when Mary Louise was a tiny baby, and had been together ever since. When all the other companions were left behind, sitting in their neat row at the foot of the bed, Chrysanthemum went on holiday with Mary Louise, her pink head generally poking out of Mary Louise's back pack at a crazy angle. Chrysanthemum was dear and good and kind. She was always there when needed, and she never answered back.
Just occasionally, when Mary Louise felt a little more lonely than usual, she wished her silent companions weren't quite so silent, but would talk to her and play with her and show they had minds of their own. But mostly, Mary Louise accepted them as they were, with all their in-built limitations.
One mid-summer's eve, not realising there was magic in the air, Mary Louise arranged her silent companions in the time-honoured way, gave them a huge kiss, sighed over each one, climbed into bed and instantly fell asleep. She slept long and deeply, but just after midnight was awakened by a strange shuffling sound. Sleepily she opened her eyes, then rubbed them twice and stared in astonishment. All her silent companions were moving, sliding off the bed one by one. Big Panda was helping each one down to the floor.
Mary Louise leaned over the side of the bed and watched. Monkey and Blue Ted were dancing. They made a strange pair, but Mary Louise had always known they were both mad. Lion Cub was practising his growling. He crouched very low, pretending to stalk Ragbag, and growled as deeply as he could in the back of his throat. It emerged as a funny kind of gruff mew.
But Mary Louise felt particularly concerned about Ragbag. He was cowering in terror, and edging away from Lion Cub into a corner. Surely he knew Lion Cub was just a baby showing off? Mary Louise wondered whether to go to Ragbag's aid, but discovered she couldn't move. Her mind was fresh and lively, but somehow or other her limbs and body felt as if they were weighted to the bed. She could only watch in dismay.
Her dismay increased when she saw Monkey and Blue Ted glance across at Ragbag and begin to laugh. He did look funny, but couldn't they see how lovely and gentle he was underneath all that filthy, matted, woollen hair?
Lion Cub was gaining courage by the moment and beginning to look really threatening, almost as though he was grown up. Perhaps Panda would do something. Panda was so big, all the other silent companions must surely be afraid of him. But Panda was the only one to remain on the bed. Perhaps he was so big he thought he'd be unable to climb back on when the moment came.
Ragbag looked forlorn and frightened and lonely. Mary Louise's heart went out to him, for she knew just how he felt. She noticed a little something in each of her silent companions which reminded her of herself, although she didn't always like what she saw.
Monkey and Blue Ted, acting so silly and laughing at someone who was down on his luck. Lion Cub, growing bolder and bolder as Ragbag grew more and more timid. Panda, just sitting there, doing nothing to help. But then she noticed her favourite, Chrysanthemum. The pink-haired doll, who was only half the size of Ragbag, marched straight up to Lion Cub and began to scold him. Mary Louise listened in amazement as Chrysanthemum soundly berated Lion Cub, using exactly the words and tone of voice Mary Louise herself would have used. Lion Cub, looking very sheepish and ashamed and suddenly small again, backed off. But Chrysanthemum hadn't finished. She put her tiny arms as far around Ragbag as she could reach, and hugged him.
"Why are you doing that?" asked Ragbag, forlornly. "Nobody else likes me, not even Mary Louise's mother. I'm dirty and smelly and I'm such a coward. All the others laugh at me."
"Stop feeling so sorry for yourself," ordered Chrysanthemum sternly. " Mary Louise loves you, and that's all that matters. Why, the way she loves you, you should be able to do anything! Stop your wailing and your tears, and be a - a - a dog!"
Ragbag looked astounded. " Mary Louise loves me? Really?"
"Of course she does," Chrysanthemum retorted. "She gave you her kiss, didn't she? That's why you're alive now. And it's about time you started to enjoy your life and make something of yourself. Come on, let's dance together."
A huge grin slowly split Ragbag's face. He gathered the pink doll into his arms and began to dance. The others crowded round and began to applaud. "Welcome, Ragbag," they cried. "We love you, too. But you're so much easier to love when you're happy. Now you're not afraid any longer, and not feeling sorry for yourself, we'll have a party."
And, do you know, that's exactly what they did, there on the floor of Mary Louise's bedroom. Mary Louise was so happy she fell right back to sleep again. When she woke up next morning, all her silent companions were ranged at the foot of the bed exactly as she'd left them last evening. She might have thought she'd been dreaming, except that Ragbag still wore a big grin, and Lion Cub was nestled up against him, purring softly.
And after that, Mary Louise was very careful how she behaved. For if her silent companions were alive through her spirit, she wanted them to enjoy the very best life they could.
Every night when she went to bed, Mary Louise would line up her silent companions on the foot of the bed, and give them a big kiss. Then she'd sigh happily, climb into bed and fall asleep very quickly, for she knew her silent companions were looking out for her.
Mary Louise loved all her silent companions, for they were all different. There was Lion Cub, who ought to have been fierce and growly, but was actually just soft and cuddly. Then there was Monkey, who had awfully long arms and a silly, lopsided grin. Both of these had been sewn by Mary Louise's Grandma, several years ago.
Next to Monkey sat Ragbag, who was a dog of indeterminate origin. Mary Louise had bought Ragbag herself at the church jumble sale. She'd paid five pence for him, and her mother had tried very hard to persuade her to ditch Ragbag in the dustbin. "You don't know where he's been," Mary Louise's mother had said. "Ugh! He's so dirty! At least let me wash him." But Mary Louise had shouted and kicked and put on her parts (an old Norfolk expression), and Ragbag had stayed, unwashed.
The next in line to Ragbag was Blue Ted, who pretended to be a Teddy bear but who had bright blue fur which was long and straggly and rather itchy if you got too close for too long. But Mary Louise loved him anyway.
All these silent companions were ranged on the lap of Panda, who was almost as big as Mary Louise herself. But the final silent companion was the one Mary Louise loved best. Chrysanthemum, the rag doll with bright pink plaits, had been with Mary Louise from the beginning. They'd shared a cot when Mary Louise was a tiny baby, and had been together ever since. When all the other companions were left behind, sitting in their neat row at the foot of the bed, Chrysanthemum went on holiday with Mary Louise, her pink head generally poking out of Mary Louise's back pack at a crazy angle. Chrysanthemum was dear and good and kind. She was always there when needed, and she never answered back.
Just occasionally, when Mary Louise felt a little more lonely than usual, she wished her silent companions weren't quite so silent, but would talk to her and play with her and show they had minds of their own. But mostly, Mary Louise accepted them as they were, with all their in-built limitations.
One mid-summer's eve, not realising there was magic in the air, Mary Louise arranged her silent companions in the time-honoured way, gave them a huge kiss, sighed over each one, climbed into bed and instantly fell asleep. She slept long and deeply, but just after midnight was awakened by a strange shuffling sound. Sleepily she opened her eyes, then rubbed them twice and stared in astonishment. All her silent companions were moving, sliding off the bed one by one. Big Panda was helping each one down to the floor.
Mary Louise leaned over the side of the bed and watched. Monkey and Blue Ted were dancing. They made a strange pair, but Mary Louise had always known they were both mad. Lion Cub was practising his growling. He crouched very low, pretending to stalk Ragbag, and growled as deeply as he could in the back of his throat. It emerged as a funny kind of gruff mew.
But Mary Louise felt particularly concerned about Ragbag. He was cowering in terror, and edging away from Lion Cub into a corner. Surely he knew Lion Cub was just a baby showing off? Mary Louise wondered whether to go to Ragbag's aid, but discovered she couldn't move. Her mind was fresh and lively, but somehow or other her limbs and body felt as if they were weighted to the bed. She could only watch in dismay.
Her dismay increased when she saw Monkey and Blue Ted glance across at Ragbag and begin to laugh. He did look funny, but couldn't they see how lovely and gentle he was underneath all that filthy, matted, woollen hair?
Lion Cub was gaining courage by the moment and beginning to look really threatening, almost as though he was grown up. Perhaps Panda would do something. Panda was so big, all the other silent companions must surely be afraid of him. But Panda was the only one to remain on the bed. Perhaps he was so big he thought he'd be unable to climb back on when the moment came.
Ragbag looked forlorn and frightened and lonely. Mary Louise's heart went out to him, for she knew just how he felt. She noticed a little something in each of her silent companions which reminded her of herself, although she didn't always like what she saw.
Monkey and Blue Ted, acting so silly and laughing at someone who was down on his luck. Lion Cub, growing bolder and bolder as Ragbag grew more and more timid. Panda, just sitting there, doing nothing to help. But then she noticed her favourite, Chrysanthemum. The pink-haired doll, who was only half the size of Ragbag, marched straight up to Lion Cub and began to scold him. Mary Louise listened in amazement as Chrysanthemum soundly berated Lion Cub, using exactly the words and tone of voice Mary Louise herself would have used. Lion Cub, looking very sheepish and ashamed and suddenly small again, backed off. But Chrysanthemum hadn't finished. She put her tiny arms as far around Ragbag as she could reach, and hugged him.
"Why are you doing that?" asked Ragbag, forlornly. "Nobody else likes me, not even Mary Louise's mother. I'm dirty and smelly and I'm such a coward. All the others laugh at me."
"Stop feeling so sorry for yourself," ordered Chrysanthemum sternly. " Mary Louise loves you, and that's all that matters. Why, the way she loves you, you should be able to do anything! Stop your wailing and your tears, and be a - a - a dog!"
Ragbag looked astounded. " Mary Louise loves me? Really?"
"Of course she does," Chrysanthemum retorted. "She gave you her kiss, didn't she? That's why you're alive now. And it's about time you started to enjoy your life and make something of yourself. Come on, let's dance together."
A huge grin slowly split Ragbag's face. He gathered the pink doll into his arms and began to dance. The others crowded round and began to applaud. "Welcome, Ragbag," they cried. "We love you, too. But you're so much easier to love when you're happy. Now you're not afraid any longer, and not feeling sorry for yourself, we'll have a party."
And, do you know, that's exactly what they did, there on the floor of Mary Louise's bedroom. Mary Louise was so happy she fell right back to sleep again. When she woke up next morning, all her silent companions were ranged at the foot of the bed exactly as she'd left them last evening. She might have thought she'd been dreaming, except that Ragbag still wore a big grin, and Lion Cub was nestled up against him, purring softly.
And after that, Mary Louise was very careful how she behaved. For if her silent companions were alive through her spirit, she wanted them to enjoy the very best life they could.
