He had sat just over there when his Grandma told him sadly he was the winter’s child.
‘Your heart is strong, but buried deep. Remember, you must always wait for the spring.’ And she had given him this bear, a tiny bear, no bigger than a mouse, with black currant eyes to watch over him when they had sent him away to that school. Be strong, be brave and always wait for spring. You are the winter’s child. And he had waited, and was still waiting, all his life. ‘
