“Sometimes,” said Pooh, crossly, “I just wish I was like Other People.”
“What do you mean?” asked Piglet in surprise.
“Well,” said Pooh. “You only have to look at them. Other People never have days when they wake up and feel they can’t get out of bed in the morning. Other People don’t look around and wonder why everyone else in the world seems so popular while they are all alone. And Other People don’t have to plaster a happy smile on their face for fear that if they don’t they’re just going to burst into tears and never stop.”
Piglet looked at his friend. “Don’t they?” he asked Pooh. “Do you not think that Other People… deep down inside… might quite often be feeling just the same as you and me?”
There was a silence, while Pooh contemplated this question, before a sudden dawning rush of realisation washed over his whole body.
“Ohhhhhhhh,” he said. Followed by an “OHHHHHHHHHHH.
“So Other People…” began Pooh,
“…are just like us. Deep down inside, we all have the days when we feel we can’t get out of bed in the morning. Deep down inside, we all of us have those times where the world seems to pass us by while we feel all alone. And if only more of us could be honest that that’s how we occasionally feel…
“…then maybe we wouldn’t feel so all alone after all.”
“Exactly,” said Piglet, quietly. “Exactly that.”