Phil's Version

My first memories were from early last spring – Opening Day for baseball. There were tons of us stretched out in the plant, all the same, but unique, too. The television was on all day long, so we watched every Phillies' baseball game of the season and all the baseball related shows. It was all we knew, and we grew to love them, beary much.

We got excited when the Phillies won the division. We could bearly stay still during the League Championship Series. We had great celebrations every time the Phillies won, during the World Series. It felt like the sky was crashing in on us, during that one and only game – game 2, in Tampa – when we lost. And that wait for those two rained-out games, especially the second time, when we found out it would resume where it left off, if it ever stopped raining! Whew! I'll tell ya! Staying still, was the hardest thing we had ever done, up to that point. The Phillies had become our lives, and yet, the season was over, and the only thing left was the celebration, which we couldn't join.

And then, it dawned on us – What now? Good thing the answer didn't take long. We found out the beary next day! We must have been beary, beary, beary good Phillies' Phans, a'cuz we were all given our beary own "Phillies World Series Champion" hoodies! We were mighty proud that night, each admiring everyone elses' hoodies, and complementing each other on how fine we all looked. We were so beary proud, we fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning, forgetting completely that we still didn't know what to do next.

I don't know what happened to most of the others, but a group of us woke up in an entirely different place that next afternoon. That's when our real lives started. Only knowing the plant before, we couldn't tell if this was a good place or bad place. It did have a whole lot of clothes there, and we were all in a big pile next to a bunch of Phillies World Champions' merchandise – T-shirts, sweat shirts, caps, medalions, coffe mugs, and clocks. That day, a whole bunch of my buddies were taken along with the rest of the merchandise, but within a few days, no one picked any more of us to go home with them. Kinda scary. We didn't know which was worse – to be taken, or not to be taken. And then the rest of us were stacked on a small shelf way in the back. Was this it?

Occasionally, someone else was taken here and there, but the rest of us were spending a long time in this new place. We'd hear weird announcements about sales, and weird songs about someone named "Santa," and something called "holidays" and "Christmas," but the only thing we knew were the Phillies, and there was no television around.

Then it happened to me. This really big boy People (and I've never seen a normal-sized People – they're all really big) picked me up, smiled and put me in a cart next to some socks, shirts, and sweat pants. Before I could even figure out what he wanted from me, he showed me to this other really big girl People, who laughed at him and then loaded me up onto a counter with the other things. I heard a cha-ching of a machine, and was shoved into the bottom of a large plastic bag with everything else, as if I were socks! Down-right undignified!!!

I was so beary scared, but the girl big People quickly reached into the bag to pull me up to the top, where I could snuggle into some soft socks. She held on tightly to the bag, making sure I didn't get wet in the beary cold rain, plopped the bag into a metal container and shut the lid.

The container moved several times, and a really big box joined my bag, but they were always careful to make sure I wasn't squished. They even slipped me a bunch of hotdogs and coffee! I've never had them before, but there beary good! Sometime during all this traveling, I figured out these two beary big Peoples belongeded to each other. I didn't have much time to figure out more, before my bag was lifted out of the metal container and finally brought into a nice warm building.

After the other really big box was brought in, the beary big Peoples pulled me out of the bag, and introduced me to my new family!!! I met Teddy T. Bear and Spaulding T. Bear first, and we were told we were brothers. Of course, with my hoodiy still on, they knew my name was "Phil," even before I knew my name. They hugged me, shookeded my paw, and introduceded me to the rest of my family. I have two neices, two nephews, two sisters, a stuffed basset hound Daddy, Pez – who seems to be both the family pet and bestest friends with my basset hound Daddy named Axlerod, a Peoples' Daddy –  who was the beary big boy People, who picked me up in the other place, and a Peoples' Mommy – who was that beary big girl People, who rescued me from the bottom of the pile of clothes and made sure I had a soft spot to ride in on the way home.

Yup! "Home!" I've been adopted into a beary nice house. Now, I know all the others that I knew from the days in the factory, were also all adopted. I've been told that I'm beary special – not only, a'cuz I was created to be a real Phillies' Phanatic (not like my cousin, who lives here, the real Phillies Phanatic), and a "baby brother" in a family of beary nice Stuffies and Peoples. They said something about never expecting another brother.

I'm also telling my story to that beary big girl People, who is now my Mommy, so she can type it and put it on something called a blog. I just got adopted today, so I'm still trying to take it all in. (Mommy note: Phil whispered this next sentence – I'm not even sure what "nephews" or "neices" actually mean yet, but I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.)

I'm amazed, and I know this is a good place to live. The firstest things they did for me were to admire my hoody (they have good taste), make me some more hotdogs and coffee. I really, really like them!

I really, really, really, really like my new family, too! Who'da thought life could get any better than the Phillies winning the World Series several weeks ago?! Life is good!

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Teddy and Spaulding's Version

We do enjoy going shopping for fun stuff! "Fun stuff" doesn't include clothes, even if Mommy is buying something very important for Daddy and our Eagles' luck! It also doesn't include socks! It just isn't fun to shop for clothes, so we stayed home when Daddy and Mommy went out clothes shopping.

We would have gone, had we known what else Daddy was getting, but he didn't even tell Mommy, so we didn't know. Imagine our surprise when they came home with a really big box and a really big bag. OK, so the bag wasn't much of a surprise for us, since we assumed it was full of socks (and that special gift Mommy was getting.) We won't tell you what was in the beary big box – you'll have to wait for Christmas! We will tell you the beary bestest thing that came out of that bag though – a baby brother!!!

Daddy and Mommy adopted a baby brother just for us – Phil T. Bear! He's a beary important bear, too! He was born on October 31^st – the day after he received his Phillies World Series Championship hoody AND the day he left the plant to be adopted from a clothes store, no less!!! It was the same day the Phillies had a parade right through our city, which he had to miss on account of that trip to the clothing store, so a beary important day!

We were so surprised! Mommy and Daddy have told us many times that we just can't have a bigger family, and then they did this!!!

The three brothers in our Eagles helmets.

Tee let his Uncle Phil wear his Eagles helmet, so we're all ready for the next game.

He fits in perfectly! We like him! We love him! He's our beary own baby brother! Can you imagine a better gift for Christmas? (Good thing they didn't make him hide all the way until Christmas. He'd be so scared and alone!) We have our beary own baby brother!!!

We know he told his story already, but we're sure you'll get to know him more and more, as we live together, take him on adventures, and let him help us with our blog. We just gotta go play with him now, and eat some more hotdogs with our coffee! C'ya!

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Mommy's Version

We cannot have more Stuffies in our house! We all barely fit together now. I've never been against adopting more, but we simply cannot fit any more. My husband and I know how not to get attached to more Stuffies – we simply don't look them in the eyes.

You don't know what I mean? Take the time to look a stuffed animal right in the eyes. Look hard enough that you can see the stuffed animal looking back. THAT's when they get you! Their eyes are so full of life. You can see the love they give unconditionally, their very personality, and their longing in those eyes – longing for a home and someone to love, as well as be loved by.

We know this, but, just as I decided not to buy a small coffee mug that said, "Phillies' World Series Champions" on it, my husband pulled up with the cart. In the seat of this shopping cart were a bunch of socks with the cutest little Teddy Bear, who looked right into my eyes. Of course, the only way I know that he looked me in the eyes was by looking into his eyes.

Now how am I ever going to be able to enforce, "No more stuffed animals," again? (We do love him, though. LOL)

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Daddy's Version

I looked him in the eyes!