Maria Ancuta

Ms. Erin Connolly

Language and Literature 10

June 10, 2020

A Best Friend

As a young child, I was always attached to my stuffed animals, after all, they kept me

company. They always made me feel safe and loved. I had never thought of them as anything

less than a friend. As I was getting ready to close my eyes for the day, anticipating what

tomorrow would bring, I reach for my best friend, Monky. Yes, his name is spelled weirdly, but

frankly, I was 5 when I stuffed him. I remember that day like it was yesterday. Then I began to

drift away, arms tight around my best friend.

We were walking around Lyngby on that late autumn day. My grandparents came to visit

my parents and me, so we chose to go on a little on a one day trip. I remember the wind causing

me to cling to my mother’s side so I wouldn’t be taken for a flight. After spending most of the

day walking around, the afternoon became too cold for my 5-year-old self and my grandparents

to be outside for much longer. So, to get away from the severe weather, we entered a quaint

shopping center. And there it was. It looked like heaven, bright and inviting. I tugged on mom’s

jacket sleeve and begged her to go inside, and she agreed. That’s where I met my best friend.

I looked around, amazed by all the mesmerizing surroundings; the store was filled with

excited children, asking their parents if they could buy a toy. I was too happy to say anything;

after all, I used up my last syllables, asking my mom to go in. As one of the store employees
approached us, I awoke from my trance. The employee was wearing a dark blue apron with a

yellow bear head right in the middle of it on top of her monochromatic clothes. She welcomed us

to the Build-A-Bear Workshop and took me on a tour. To the left of the entrance was the Furry

Friend skin area, followed by the stuffing machine, then the dressing area, and then the cashier.

As I was taken to pick out a furry friend’s skin, I laid eyes upon it - as I had not yet decided

whether I wanted a guy or girl best friend.

It didn’t take long for me to gravitate towards the monkey skin. Monkeys were my

favorite animal, and it had nothing to do with me being a slight monkey. Its pre-stuffed head was

accessorized with a beige nose and mouth combo and ears sticking out. He was mostly brown,

just like every stuffed monkey out there, but he seemed different, he was special. As I picked up

the monkey skin, I headed towards the stuffing machine, and got in line, as other children were

also awaiting the birth of their future furry best friend. As it became my turn, and I started

pressing down the pedal to start the stuffing process, the machine broke down. Not what was

wanted or expected, but the employee offered me an alternative. She had clearly seen my

excitement and offered to help me hand-stuff my monkey. So, surrounded by my favorite people,

my family, I began to hand stuff my best friend.

Upon his completion, it was time to give him a heart and sew him up. I was instructed to

take one of the plush hearts and start the ceremony. All while holding the plush heart, I was first

told to jump on one leg, then to turn in a circle, then act like a monkey, then pass it to each of my

family members for a kiss each, and finally, I was told to give the heart a final kiss before putting

it in my new furry friend. Once sown up, I was handed my best friend, I guess that was the

moment I realized we would forever be inseparable. Forever together, me and my best friend.
 Holding on tight, we walked the naming area. It was time to finally let my creativity flow

and choose a fantastic name for my new best friend. I must have been really creative because the

best name I came up with was Monky. My mother, who had been inputting the personal

information, my birthday and such, into the computer, allowed me to type the name. I remember

the way the keys felt when you pressed them down. They were smooth, covered in see-through

plastic. All the regular, boring letters were encased by different animal paws, all colorful and

inviting. As I finished typing the five simple letters, I gave my new friend, Monky a hug, and we

sent the “birth certificate” to print. He was no longer a simple monkey, he now was Monky, my

best friend.

As we walked through the clothing aisle, we were looking left and right, trying to find an

outfit for Monky. He required an outfit, something to keep him warm from the awful weather

outside. As I was assessing all the available clothes, I entered a trance that seemed unbreakable.

However, that was not the case as soon enough, I reentered normal life. I had been awakened

with the news that we were gonna miss our metro back home. I no longer had time to pick out

the perfect outfit, so my furry friend had to remain undressed. Holding him tight, I followed my

mother like a duckling follows its mother to the cashier where she paid, and received my best

friend’s certificate. As we walked back into the cold outdoors, where the rain was pouring down

as if someone had forgotten to turn off the tap, I hugged my best friend.

As a young child, I was really close to my grandfather, specifically. He was not only my

“bunicu”; he was my best friend. When he passed away, I was assigned to choose a new friend, a

task that sounds easy, but it is tough when their predecessor was the best person you had ever

met. My grandpa had always been there, no matter what, just like Monky has. And while I lost
my grandfather, I believe a piece of him will always be inside of Monky. A best friend helping

create a best friend.