In an odd sort of way, these words
"My doll is broken"
are music to a grandmother's ears.
She had spent the morning
tidying up her bedroom and
wanted me to see. A large
dollhouse stands on a table
in the center of the room.
Throughout the room, in carriages,
high chairs, cradles and on
her bed, are dolls.
I'm fond of her bookcases.
They are filled with her favorite books
and I continue adding to her
collection. Now reading
a Laura Ingalls series, we
talk of the characters she likes best.
Some books she likes so well, she
reads them more than once.
"Hand me your little porcelain doll,
and I'll repair her." I'm thinking
a new dress for her might be nice.....
she has no clothes.
Porcelain dolls are not made well
and I've noticed a tear on the
arm. I suppose they are mostly
made to be seen and not handled.
I'm glad she was handled and
perhaps loved a bit too much.
"Yes, little one, your doll is
broken, but not for long."
These are such sweet times.....Dee Dee
