Playing with China Dolls in the Middle of Grandmother’s Bed
One of my best childhood memories of visiting at my grandmother’s house is sitting in the middle of her big double bed, playing with two china head dolls. Those dolls would be over a hundred years old now, easily.
One was a baby doll, with no hair and a frilly dress. Her eyes closed when you laid her down and when they opened I remember the most beautiful blue glass eyes. Her cheeks were chubby and had just the perfect blush to them.
The other doll was a child doll, with long brown ringlets and a green dress. Although I played with them both, it’s the baby doll that brings back the best memories.
My Aunt took care of my grandmother in her later years, and the dolls passed to her side of the family when my grandmother died. My Aunt has long since passed away, as has her only daughter.
I’ve been trying for some time to get up the nerve to deal with family members I haven’t talked to in years, in hopes of getting that baby doll back for myself. It seems so selfish to call someone up I barely know and ask them to give me something of such value, but the value for me is not monetary, but priceless.
Maybe writing this will bolster my courage to actually try to get her back.
Maybe if you explained the situation to them it would make it less awkward.
Seems simple enough to do, doesn’t it, Ryan. Trouble is, it’s just not that easy for me.
But I will admit that writing my reasons for wanting this doll so badly has helped a little. It’s kind of like rehearsing what I’ll say when I do get the nerve to start calling all these strangers.
Write it down, like you did for us, and send them a letter asking if they would be willing to gift you the doll.
You’re right, of course, and writing this as a blog post has definitely bolstered my courage.
Your encouragement helps, too, so thanks for commenting, Jennie.