Eeyore's Gift

Eeyore walked all round Tigger one way, and then turned and walked all round him the other way.
"What did you say it was?" he asked.
"Tigger."
"Ah!" said Eeyore.
"He's just come," explained Piglet.
"Ah!" said Eeyore again.
He thought for a long time and then said:
"When is he going?"
Pooh explained to Eeyore that Tigger was a great friend of Christopher Robin's, who had come to stay in the Forest, and Piglet explained to Tigger that he mustn't mind what Eeyore said because he was always gloomy; and Eeyore explained to Piglet that, on the contrary, he was feeling particularly cheerful this morning; and Tigger explained to anybody who was listening that he hadn't had any breakfast yet.
"I knew there was something," said Pooh.
"Tiggers always eat thistles, so that is why we came to see you, Eeyore."
"Don't mention it, Pooh."
"Oh, Eeyore, I didn't mean that I didn't want to see you---"
"Quite--quite. But your new stripey friend--naturally he wants his breakfast. What did you say his name was?"
"Tigger."
"Then come this way, Tigger."
Eeyore led the way to the most thistly-looking patch of thistles that ever was, and waved a hoof at it.
"A little patch I was keeping for my birthday," he said; "but, after all, what are birthdays? Here today and gone tomorrow. Help yourself Tigger."


I was raised on Winnie the Pooh. My father used to read the stories aloud to us at bedtime and was particularly good at using a different voice for each character. He nailed Eeyore, who has always been to me one of the funniest characters in fiction.

Which is a good thing, because I have known and worked with a few Eeyores in real life.

What is hilarious in a children's story is sometimes trying in real life. Real life Eeyores have a way of driving me to adoration and/or confession, which may well be why God allows them to make appearances in my life like the occasional jalapeno pepper accidentally bitten and swallowed whole. Not as memorable as a habanero, but memorable enough.

I am still working on the special knack some have, the knack of not allowing irritating people to get under their skin. A former pastor, for example, has a delightful way of coping with gloomy utterances. "He would like you to think that" he will say, with a twinkle in his eye, when he hears that someone has complained about being too busy, too overworked , to take his allotted vacation time.

Of course, we should feel sorry for habitually gloomy Eeyores. It can't be much fun to see only the negative side of things. I attended a retreat a few years ago, my first silent retreat. On the last day of the retreat, I sat down for lunch at a table occupied by only one other woman, and she was wearing an aggrieved expression.

"The food this week has been awful" she whispered.

I looked up, startled that she was breaking the "no talking" rule. Having gained my attention, she went on in angry whispers about how much money she had paid, and look what they were dishing up.

I had been more or less enjoying the food. And the silence. So I smiled and went on quietly eating. But I did wonder if the entire retreat experience had been a positive one for her, and if not, how she coped with it all. Silent retreats are supposed to be opportunities for prayer, and as such are meant to be uplifting.

Eeyore does have his moments of contentment. On his birthday we find him standing by a stream looking at himself in the water, and finding nothing good in the image staring back at him. Then Pooh arrives and Eeyore says, famously,

"Good morning, Pooh Bear, ...if it is a good morning,.. which I doubt."

By the end of the day, and after a series of misadventures during which Pooh and Piglet try unsuccessfully to bring presents to Eeyore whole and intact, Eeyore surprisingly feels grateful for the imperfect offerings.

Picking up a ruined balloon and dropping it carefully into an empty honey pot, Eeyore demonstrates that his balloon fits perfectly into his pot.

As the story closes, Eeyore "was taking the balloon out and putting it back again, as happy as could be..."

You never know. Which is why I suppose that in the end it is always better to reserve judgment on even the gloomiest and most subtly sarcastic Eeyores. After all, they might surprise you.

The woman who hated the food at our retreat might have after all enjoyed other aspects of her experience.

The overworked employee might have gone on vacation after all and found that things did not fall apart in his absence.

I'm still trying to be upbeat around my Eeyores when I encounter them. But until I develop just the right tone, and the right attitude to go with it, I might just as well resolve to attend adoration, pray the rosary and try to let God work in and through me.

Or maybe I should just try singing a song, as Pooh once did when Eeyore had stumped him.

"That's right," said Eeyore. "Sing. Umpty-tiddly, umpty-too. Here we go gathering Nuts and May. Enjoy yourself."

"I am," said Pooh.

"Some can," said Eeyore.

OK, I am officially throwing in the towel. I'm going to adoration.