When I was a child I went to stay with my Granddad in Scotland. It was the first time I’d been that far away from home and I got a little homesick. One day we were in a bookshop and my Granddad said he would buy me a book. The book I chose was this one:
It is the story of a yellow duck who is embroidered onto a cushion cover. One day she becomes real and spends a day around Brambledown pond. The creatures she meets are all bad tempered because of the weather, but the duck remains cheerful. The story ends with a water sprite promising to make the duck real once a week.
I know a story of another yellow duck. This one:
Oscar, on the other hand, was most content from that point forward when he had that yellow duck on his head! I like to think that if a newborn baby could have a favourite toy, that duck was Oscar’s. Not any of the ones gifted by his family, not the monkeys that I chose for him, but something I actually never would have given him myself! Maybe that’s just another example of Oscar being stubborn and doing things his own way!
“Their bad temper and sulks disappeared, like puddles disappearing in the sunshine. They felt particularly happy when they thought about the new friend they had found in Yellow Duckling.”
It wasn’t something written about Oscar and his duck, it’s just a line from a 28 year old story that now seems to take on a new meaning. I know of a very special yellow duck that could make Oscar’s frowny face disappear.
When I was a child I had so many soft toys. My favourite was “bun bun” a pink rabbit (actually three existed!) but there is only one that I still have today. The rest went years before Oscar was even a thought, and I have no idea why I kept this one specific one. It’s quite a coinscidence though:
(Note, the book is not the original; I’ve no idea what happened to that!)