Why I did it

She'd been nervous for weeks about the change. I just wanted that, when she stepped outside, there'd be something small and loving waiting. Nothing spectacular: a handmade plush, yes, with clothes I could swap so it would remind her of home.

The surprise on the saddle

I left before she woke and propped the Puffy on the saddle, only its head peeking above the handlebars. What mattered was that she'd come across it on the way; that amid the traffic lights she'd find a sweet little gesture to make her smile.

I didn't leave a note or flowers. Just a red ribbon tied at the back of the plush, like the ones I use on things that remind her of me.

The short ride

I watched from the kitchen window as she pedaled carefully, and I saw her stop. I didn't feel huge relief or anything triumphant: a soft little pinch in my chest and the certainty that a simple thing had done its job.

• 06:35 I leave home and place the Puffy on the saddle, checking it won't fall when she starts pedaling.
• 07:10 She leaves; I follow her with my eyes from the window until she reaches the traffic light.
• 07:11 She gets off, takes off her helmet and hugs the Puffy as if she'd been waiting for it all night.
• 07:12 She sends me a message with an emoji and one word: "thanks".

She got back on and rode away with a small, held smile. The gesture didn't fix her nerves, but it gave her a moment of calm—and for me that was enough.

— Marta, Seville

What remained

The next day the Puffy already had a small mark from traveling by bike and a soft scent of home. She left it on her work desk, and every time she looked at it a smile slipped out. It was a wordless reminder: I'm with you, even in the rush.

If you'd like to prepare a similar surprise, Contact us and we'd be delighted to help.

Discover other Puffys in our Puffy collection or pick clothes in separate outfits.