Missing Buttons

At the core of who we are, regardless of our differences, lies a common thread of desire - a desire to be considered valuable, worthy, enough. Begin to unravel this thread, and it will lead you to various attempts to increase our worth in the eyes of a society whom we have given the power to decide our value. It is as though value is subjective and transient, rather than intrinsically unalterable.

It comes at no surprise, then, that literature has spent countless pages exploring humanity's search for value - a longing to be noticed and loved as we are, and not cast aside for the very differences that make us unique.

"A children's story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good children's story in the slightest" - C.S. Lewis

The best children's stories, in my opinion, are those that touch something in our hearts connected to the core thread of our humanity, and Don Freeman's Corduroy is a lovely exemplification of this principle.

Green overalls. A teddy bear. A missing button. A little girl.

Corduroy tells the story of a bear in green corduroy overalls, waiting patiently, if not slightly apprehensively, on a department store shelf. He waits for a child to select him - choose him, love him - and take him home. The only problem is that Corduroy, named for his aforementioned overalls, is missing a button on the overalls' strap. None of the other bears are.

The long-awaited day finally arrives, as a little girl - Lisa - and her mother come over to the shelf where Corduroy is displayed, and he catches the little girl's eye. Lisa immediately falls in love with Corduroy, begging her mom to take him home. Her mother is insistent that they aren't purchasing a bear, and points out to Lisa the missing button on Corduroy's overalls, citing this as a reason that he is simply not worth spending money on.

The girl and her mother leave. The department store closes. The staff go home.

Corduroy carefully climbs down from his display shelf and begins his search. The search for his missing button - the one thing that stands between him and acceptance into a new home, between him and the love he desires. He manages to get onto the elevator - which he thinks is a mountain - and makes it to the palace, also known to humans as the furniture section of a department store.

Corduroy finally finds a mattress, with the culmination of his quest attached to it - buttons! He climbs up onto the mattress with much effort and uses all his strength to pull at the mattress button - flying off the mattress and crashing into a lamp. A nighttime security guard hears the crash, comes and finds Corduroy, and returns him to his display shelf - buttonless.

As the sun comes up, Corduroy despairs over the hopelessness of his dream to find a home - surely no one will love him with a missing button. The store opens, and Lisa returns, with her piggy bank under her arm. "Excuse me sir, could you help me get that bear with the missing button?" asks Lisa, pointing towards Corduroy where he sits on the display shelf. The salesperson lifts Corduroy up and he cannot believe it - she came back!

The salesperson offers Lisa a bag for Corduroy, but Lisa declines. She hugs Corduroy and carries him excitedly all the way home, where she has made a little toy bed beside her bed for him to sleep in. She looks at Corduroy and squeezes him tight before saying "I like you as you are". Corduroy realizes that he has finally found what he has always longed for - a home, and a friend.

As a girl, I loved when my mother read this story to me. I would get a warm feeling in my heart every time Lisa took Corduroy home and loved him even though his button was missing. I begged her to read it to me again and again - and again.

I began to contemplate the reasons why my favourite bedtime childhood stories were the most memorable to me. Every story I could think of was special to me because of the message it communicated - even if I could not detect the depth of the message as a girl. As C.S. Lewis hints at, children's stories that speak to something inside the human heart are the best kind indeed.

Reflecting on this story, I was not only struck by the heartwarming message that we are all worthy of love, not only in spite of our differences, but perhaps because of them.

It is a beautiful message, but what caught my attention was Corduroy's search for the button - convinced that it was going to increase his value and worth in the eyes of the little girl.

I began to wonder how often I search for missing buttons. I thought about how society idolizes buttons, sells buttons, and tells us that we are nothing if we are missing a button.

The perfect body type. The big house. Thousands of followers. A relationship. Our job. Our salary.

We continually search for and pursue these things to increase our value, to make ourselves more desirable, to convince someone that we are worthy of love, despite our missing buttons. Society perpetuates this message, and each night, we climb back onto our display shelves, discouraged that our pursuit of buttons might not be enough to deem us inherently valuable or worthy. We fear that we are not enough.

If there were one message that I want to pass onto my children through bedtime stories, it would be this - you are valuable.

Value is not something we can earn or find outside of ourselves. It is not something to seek at the expense of neglecting who we truly are.

Value is something that we possess as long as we have air in our lungs.

The things that make me different, that make you different, and that will make my children different, are the things that society should celebrate.

We are enough.

This is the message I want my children to hear. They don't need to search after missing buttons to be worthy of love.

They are enough.