Teddy bears sat stoically in the casket. Some were dressed fancifully. Others wore just their fur and perhaps a bow tie.

All of them, we were told, were beloved treasures of the deceased woman, who had requested the bears keep her company in the grave.

This was the second time in the past few months we saw teddy bears in the coffin of an older person.

The other woman, too, had wanted her special cuddly friends to spend eternity with her.

Those experiences got me thinking about the important role teddy bears play in our lives, no matter what age we are.

By far, teddy bears are the most popular stuffed toy ever created, and that was more than 100 years ago.

Many folks are familiar with the oft-told story of the teddy bear’s origin.

President Theodore Roosevelt, in November 1902, joined a bear-hunting expedition, but he refused to shoot a small black bear some members of his hunting party had tied to a tree.

The president did not think shooting a tethered bear was good sportsmanship or challenging, and he ordered it released.

A Washington Post political cartoonist, Clifford Berryman, captured the scene in print, and his newspaper cartoon caught the imagination of the public.

Soon the bear became a symbol of the well-liked president, “Teddy,” and thus began an American love affair that still thrives today.

Just what is the animal magnetism of the teddy bear?

Perhaps it’s the comforting effect teddy bears have on people’s lives. Think of the fuzzy bear as a security blanket, but with a sweet face and arms and legs.

It can be hugged and cuddled and confided in. It can be used as a pillow.

I have seen youngsters chewing on their teddy bears. These plush toys can withstand a lot of hard loving.

Worn, matted fur and split seams just make teddy more precious.

My main bear (by now I have many) has been with me almost 60 years. While my sister wanted dolls, I craved a teddy bear.

When the toy of my dreams was not forthcoming, I somehow located a punch card, popular in the 1950s, which had a teddy bear as the prize. Door-to-door I went, until the card was fully punched and paid up, and eventually I bagged my bear.

Unimaginatively, I named him Ted. He doesn’t mind.

He has been with me through decades of highs and lows, joys and sorrows. A bit tattered, he looks his age.

Ted is always there when I need him. He knows me better than any human does. And he’s great at keeping secrets.

Many of my perfectly rational friends and relatives have at least one favorite teddy bear, some dating back to childhood.

Most of these bears are not hidden away in a closet or attic; they proudly sit on a chair or bench or bed.

When I asked a few friends why they still cherish their bears, the responses did not surprise me.

“He doesn’t tell me how to drive,” a female friend in her 60s quipped.

“My bear is always ready to give me a hug,” another friend said.

The bear compliments flowed.

“Teddy bears are loyal. They’re never critical or sarcastic. And they don’t eat the last cookie.”

“He listens to my problems without interrupting me.”

When my mother died, my brother and his wife used a soft, plush article of clothing our mother wore and fabricated stuffed memory bears for grieving family members.

I love that pink bear and adorned her with one of my mom’s necklaces. Through the teddy bear, I can feel my mother’s presence.

In our high-tech world, it is comforting to know that so many children and grown-ups still love the low-tech, fuzzy teddy bear.

May your favorite teddy continue to provide endless hugs and late-night protection from the shadows.