WHAT I TREASURE

My skiing polar bear coaster by Nancy Larochelle

Bought for me over 20 years ago at our local coffee shop by my now ex-husband, this delightful cartoon-like image of a polar bear wearing a green scarf flapping in the breeze caught my eye as soon as I’d entered the shop. I’ve always liked bears and I immediately liked the simple yet colourful design – it made me smile.

Although I’ve kept very few possessions from my marriage, selling or donating most over the years, somehow I could never part with my polar bear coaster. It’s a memento of a former life in a different location, one I sometimes almost forget I once had.

The coaster was sold as a set with a companion mug, which unfortunately got broken during one of my many long distance moves. I remember how sorry I was to find it shattered in one of the boxes, in spite of the bubble wrap I’d packed it in. I tried without luck to find a replacement mug, but none was quite right, so the coaster – which became even more precious in my eyes – has since been paired with a panoply of mismatched drinking vessels. It has sat underneath mugs of steaming apple cider or decadent hot chocolate in happy times, and beneath soothing cups of tea or restorative healing concoctions during difficult moments and throughout illnesses.

Over the years, it has staunchly protected Ikea tabletops in urban apartments, as well as wooden furniture in country houses.

It’s always part of my home.

Nowadays, my tall smoothie glass is laid down on it in the morning while I write in my journal, and my cup of afternoon herbal tea is deposited on it while I work or read.

When I glance at it, I am of course reminded of pleasant hours spent in that coffee shop: popping in to refuel my brain while writing my thesis, having a leisurely breakfast on Sundays after a yoga class, or sitting around a table with visiting outof-town relatives, chatting and laughing. I occasionally feel pangs of nostalgia when I recall the young woman I was at the time, still naïve yet so full of hope and promise. But mostly I’m reminded of how much

I’ve grown since then, becoming stronger, more resilient and wiser.

I see a kindred spirit in the lone polar bear, and the drawing on the coaster now appears to me as an allegory about life; its message: to keep on ‘skiing’ through thick and thin ‘snow’, no matter the conditions, downhill and uphill – because once one gets over a hill, perhaps a magnificent vista is waiting. What means a lot to you? Tell us in 500 words; thesimplethings@icebergpress.co.uk.