This stuffed camel has been around for almost 100 years. Last time we were in Cripple Creek, I brought him home for safe-keeping. It's comforting looking at him, and thinking about the family history wrapped up in a toy. He's in amazing shape for such an old fellow, considering all the moves and changes.
When we were growing up, Mom stored Camel in the Christmas box. It was special to play with him carefully once a year. Otherwise, he would have been loved to death, like our three stuffed toys named "Tootles," "Fifi" and "Woofy." It's strange the things you remember-- and then forget what you had for lunch yesterday.
Camel was Dad's toy when he was a little boy. He says he remembers playing with him on his cot in his parent's bedroom. Camel's neck was once covered with yarn hair, but over the years little fingers pulled most of it out.
Camel is not cuddly. He is quite hard and scratchy actually, made of wool, wire, and filled with horsehair. But he absolutely drips with camel personality. Whoever made him by hand captured that perfect combination of charm and insolence.
Compared to our usual glorious mess, I hardly have any Christmas decorations up. But somehow less seems like more this year, and Camel has the place of honor under the tiny tree.
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