The Magic of Marmalade: “Paddington 2,” Childhood, and Living With Kindness

Gracie would like to invite you to celebrate her 21st birthday with a

PADDINGTON PARTY

Friday, August 30th, 2019 8:00 PM

Hugs will be received in lieu of gifts

In a one-bedroom apartment in lower Manhattan, my friends and I huddled around my laptop, placed on a desk chair, to watch Paddington 2. I specifically requested that any stuffed friends make an appearance as well, so a bear, two dogs, and a rabbit squeezed onto our two couches with the eight girls who spent their Friday night letting me show them a children’s movie.

I made two kinds of scones — blueberry and some lemon ones that were gluten-free — and bought orange marmalade, Paddington’s favorite, for spreading on top. We clutched mugs of hot tea in our hands and balanced bowls of popcorn on our knees, leaning in to see the tiny screen.

I don’t remember where I first saw Paddington 2. But I do remember being captivated by the story and the joy of Paddington, a character I was familiar with from the books by Michael Bond that I read as a kid, but whose love was illuminated in a new way in this rendition. I remember laughing at Paddington’s misplaced attempts at doing good, and I remember crying at the reunion of two beloved bears from darkest Peru.

I didn’t want to live in Paddington’s world. I wanted Paddington’s world to live in me.

When I was twelve years old with raging hormones that I didn’t know what to do with, I would cry almost every night to my mom because I was growing up too soon, I didn’t know what to do about it, and I wanted to stop it. I started craving almost constant physical affection, and I could never get enough hugs in one day. I liked some things about my new stage of life: being trusted with new tasks and responsibilities and having new knowledge. But I didn’t like the unknown. I didn’t like the mystery of growing older or knowing that one day my mom wouldn’t be there for me to cry to every night.

Now, at twenty-two, I’ve mostly moved out of my parents’ house and have become more accustomed to the idea of adulthood, but I still don’t think my childhood is over. Even though I have a part-time job while in school and more of my expenses are falling on my plate, I often still feel like a child on the inside.

Paddington isn’t a child, but he isn’t an adult either. He’s a bear. He wants to be good and help others. He even gets a job to help him pay for a special gift — a job that he is comically terrible at — and he ultimately tries to live by Aunt Lucy’s motto that “if you’re kind and polite the world will be right.”

Paddington helps the people of Windsor Gardens in little ways every day, and they are all better for it and feel his absence when he leaves. Paddington reminds Dr. Jafri not to forget his keys and brings breakfast to Mademoiselle Dubois so she doesn’t arrive at work angry and hungry. He even helps Mr. Barnes, the garbage collector, study for his bus driver’s test while on his trash route.

Paddington’s positive outlook on life doesn’t mean that he’s never angry, or afraid, or sad because of those around him. Rather, when someone makes him feel less-than, he follows Aunt Lucy’s advice that “if you look for the good in people, you’ll find it.” He treats everyone with respect and generosity, even when they don’t treat him in the same way.

This summer I’ve been reflecting on what it means to live with an ethic of kindness. What would our world look like we looked for the good in others and treated them with the kindness that they deserve, regardless of how they have treated us, or of their political affiliations, race, ethnicity, or gender either.

I still sometimes feel like everything is going wrong, I don’t know what to do, and I want to stop it: often on a larger scale with much more at stake.

But Paddington reminds me that I still have kindness.

I have politeness and respect and human decency. I have a duty to pay to the Mr. Currys of the world who only want to see the worst in people, but who Paddington still considers a friend. I can be like Paddington and hold onto a portion of my childhood innocence that believes that there is good in everyone.

Paddington 2 is a children’s movie. And children’s movies are, in general, idealistic. I fully recognize that we need a lot more than individual kindness today to see racial injustice end or for people on opposite sides of the political aisle to see each other’s humanity. But is it such a bad place to start?

Gathered around my laptop, mugs of tea empty, bowls with only popcorn kernels left in them discarded on the floor, I felt grateful. I was grateful for friends who see the world the way I do, for marmalade sandwiches and lemon and blueberry scones, and for teddy bears to snuggle with after a long day.

And I was grateful for stories that speak words of kindness. That, when our society is broken, we can still see the humanity in the people next to us and make this place a tiny bit better to live in.

After I hugged my friends goodbye and swiveled the couch back into its original spot, I found myself wishing that the night could’ve lasted longer.

But as good as it is to sit in childlike wonder for an evening, it’s even better to do it for a lifetime.