Goodbye, Mr. Cuddles

It was 6 a.m. on Saturday and little Ethan gently caressed the furry head of his favourite toy, Mr. Cuddles. Mr. Cuddles was his emotional support toy, gifted by his aunt on his first birthday. Ever since, Ethan had loved him dearly.

He was excited about the weekend. He got up, made his bed, brushed his teeth, and went straight to his mum. The living room was filled with the aroma of coffee and steaming hot idlis. Ethan was only five, too young to appreciate the smell of coffee and idlis.

After breakfast, he played with his toys for a while until boredom crept in. He ran to his paati and said, “I wish I had a little brother or sister to play with.” Paati smiled and embraced him gently with her wrinkled hands.

“If you want a sibling,” she said, “all you have to do is ask your mom and dad.”

Ethan hushed her quickly. “No, paati. I don’t want to tell Amma. She shouldn’t know.” He paused, then added, “I should never have told you.”

Paati chuckled softly and began to tell him an old story her own mother had once shared. 

There was a little girl who wanted a sibling. Hesitant to ask her mother, she went straight to God and asked for a sibling. God replied, “Each household has a headcount. That’s how the Ministry of Population Control operates. Your family is assigned a headcount of three. I’m sorry, but it is what it is.” The little girl was disappointed.

Ethan listened quietly, looked up at his paati and said, “Maybe the headcount of our family is four, and that’s why I can’t have a sibling.” He was tempted to ask paati when she was planning to leave, but he stayed quiet. He loved her, but he loved his yet-to-be-born sibling even more.

Ethan was confused and sad. Someone had to leave so he could welcome a little baby. He decided it was better to deal with the situation directly with God Himself. He asked God to consider his house an exception so he could have a sibling. “I’m very lonely at home,” he told God.

God felt sorry for the little boy and decided to cut him some slack. He replied, “You have five minutes. You must give up something you love. It could be anything that truly matters to you.”

Ethan was elated. He ran around the house, searching for something to offer God in exchange for a sibling. He picked his favorite cactus from the garden and ran to God.

God said, “You do adore this plant, but it doesn’t really matter to you.”

Ethan ran around the house like a maniac looking for something meaningful to offer. Exhausted, he jumped onto his bed and just then, Mr. Cuddles fell into his lap.

Mr. Cuddles.

Ethan’s most beloved toy. A companion he had never been separated from. He held the soft, furry toy in his hands, tears sliding down his cheeks, lips trembling. He caressed Mr. Cuddles one last time, whispered a weak goodbye, and gave him to God. He then curled up in his bed where Mr. Cuddles used to lay and sobbed quietly.

Days passed by and paati noticed a change in Ethan’s demeanour. When Ethan told her what had happened, paati whispered, “sometimes we give up a precious thing to make room for something even more wonderful.”

A year later, on a Saturday morning, Ethan woke up and ran to the living room. His amma smiled, beckoned him closer and whispered, “Meet your little sister, Ava.”