The morning sun shone brightly in the Hundred Acre Wood, and danced its way around the trees and into the homes of Christopher Robin's friends. It shone particularly into a tall tree, with a round window in the highest floor. The room was plain and simple, and it was warm and tender. In this room, lived a young little joey named Roo.

Although, he wasn't really a young joey anymore. He had grown, and had become a strong, handsome, very big kangaroo. But in the eyes of those who knew him, he was still a young one. He was still playful, still silly, and still full of energy. All of his friends said he was a wonderful person to know.

He was friendly, polite, and very nice. The perfect model of a good, noble kangaroo.

Roo woke up on his wooden bed, and he was slightly groggy. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he looked around at the room he slept in. He'd been in this room since he was very small, and he loved it. Though the bed was no longer the little bed he nestled in as a child, it was still a great one. Although he didn't have to climb on to the stool anymore, he still loved to sit on it and enjoy the sunlight. Although it seemed much smaller than it used to, he still felt the comforting, peaceful languidness of the simple little room. To him, it was beautiful and perfect.

As he stood up, and changed from his pajamas into his blue T-shirt, he started down the steps of the pleasant home. That T-shirt was based on the one he had worn as a child. He always loved how he looked in bright, robin's egg blue, and he loved the feel of the soft, homemade cotton.

Roo hadn't changed much from when he was a little joey.

Roo walked softly, slowly down the wooden steps, holding onto the railing, and when he reached the bottom of the stairs, he found himself in the living room of the house. Roo looked around and could sense the love and nurturing feeling all around the entire house. It was a precious, treasured feeling that gave him comfort. He looked into the kitchen, and saw standing there the one who brought him all this love.

"Hello dear," Said a voice. Soft and kind, it was a beautiful voice. It was the voice of his mother Kanga. Kanga was a warm, loving, affectionate mother. The kind of mother anyone would ever ask for. The kind of mother who could fill an entire tree with a feeling of peace and warmth. A mother whose affections could be felt throughout a person's entire surroundings. A perfect mother, truly.

Kanga had raised her son into the kangaroo he was today, and she was responsible for the kindness of her son. She was nurturing and protective, caring and understanding, soothing and calming. She brought a sense of perfect happiness that no one could match. And she made Roo feel perfectly safe and confident. The kind of love that knows no limits. An endless love that could go beyond love, and hold a person's soul in its arms. That kind of love was miraculous, the embodiment of beauty. What could ever be better?

"Hi mama." Roo said sweetly, as he sat down at the kitchen table. As he sat down he could hear the sizzling and crackling of oil in a frying pan, and smelled the scent of pancakes. "I made you some pancakes Roo," said Kanga, as she began to serve them. She had also made him bacon which she slowly served on the plate beside the pancakes.

She lifted the plate from off of the counter top, and walked over to the table where her son was sitting. As she walked over, the smile on her lips and the sparkle in her eyes both made Roo smile. He could see the care in everything she did, as she served the laid the breakfast on the table, and took her seat across from him, staring at him, still smiling.

Roo began to eat his pancakes, and he ate them ravenously and happily. He ate them very fast, and his mother let a light chortle out as he did this. "Oh Roo, slow down dear." Roo gave an adorable smile with his cheeks full of pancakes, and chewed slightly quicker so he could speak. As he swallowed with a great gulp, he said "I'm hungry mama."

Somehow when he said that, Kanga's heart filled with warmth and happiness. Roo had stayed so similar to how he was when he was small. Kanga loved that her son was still her son, and that now, when he had finally grown up, he was just the same.

She had watched him grow and become more mature every day, and she always wondered what he would be like when he was a big kangaroo. She watched him become sweeter, and kinder, and more good every day. And she was proud. She thought the world of her son.

She enjoyed watching him eat his food, and the joy in his eyes and on his face made her feel so special. She knew it wasn't the food that made him so happy. Roo finished eating his breakfast and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Thank you mama," came the reply, "thank you so much." The tenderness in his voice was evident, as his eyes squinted with love and emotion.

Both kangaroos, moved almost to tears, were brought together at that moment. The simple breakfast had brought a feeling of pure, unequaled love, unable to be explained or defined. But perfect. It brought Roo all the memories of care and selflessness that his mother had shown him his whole life. And at that moment, he knew just how loved he was.

Kanga arose from her chair, and walked over to Roo. She wrapped her loving arms around her little joey, and said "Oh my Roo, my wonderful, beautiful son." And she held on to him tightly, as he sat, still in his chair, snuggling in his mother's gentle arms.

"Oh mama, I love you." He said, sounding very much like a little child.

As he snuggled with her, he looked up into her warm face. Her affection was so pure, so pristine, so beautiful. And as he looked in her eyes, he noticed something. Her once smooth eyes had become worn and creased with wrinkles, her soft cheeks had become slightly thin and also creased, her once bright eyes had a dim glow of tiredness, and her once firm arms had become weak and delicate.

As Roo had grown strong and mature, his mother was also growing. But his mother was growing old. Long past the days when she had become a beautiful, energetic kangaroo, healthy and big, she had left behind the days when she was strong, and when she had first become Roo's mother, and had grown slower and older, still beautiful, still lovely, but older.

Suddenly, as Kanga kissed him on the forehead, with all the love she could, a worrying fear arose in Roo's heart. He suddenly felt alone, and empty, and cold. He frowned, as his mother walked back to her seat. "Roo? What's the matter dear?"

"Oh, I'm just...worried mama."

"Worried about what dear?"

"I don't know."

Roo felt that one day, he would no longer have the one who gave him the love his soul so needed. The love that healed him when he was sad, nourished him when he was lonely, and cared for him when he was in want of comfort. He worried that a day would come when he was alone, and that he would be alone forever. He worried that every day, that day came closer. He knew it would be a while, a long while, but nothing lasted forever...or did it? He wasn't sure.

"It's all right dear, I'm here," Kanga said, trying to comfort her beloved son.

"I know mama," he said sullenly, "I know."

He walked out of his chair, and out the door to enjoy the day and the sunlight. The sun had risen high, and it was glorious to see. What would he do? He asked himself. How would he find the love his heart needed on that day? On the day his mother left him?

Kanga worried about this very thing for years. What could she do? How could she help him? How could her love truly never end?

Kanga reminded herself that she showed him love throughout all his life, and if he really was alone, somehow, some way, her love would stay, because really, love never does end.

But as they were soon to find out, both mother and son, is that sometimes, love can come to you in many different ways. Ways that no one can make come, but finds you right when you need it.