Regina Rees

When I was a little girl, I loved books and playing with my dolls. I kept my dolls and stuffed animals in my bedroom, where they lived on my bed, in a bookshelf, and in their own doll cradle and stroller. For my fourth Christmas, I received a Raggedy Ann doll, and Raggedy Ann book to go with her.

I was spellbound as my mother read me the stories of Marcella, Raggedy Ann, Andy, and the rest of the dolls. The thing that really amazed me was that when Marcella left the room the dolls came to life and talked and played.

I wondered if my dolls did the same thing when I was not in my room. I was so fascinated by this thought that I sometimes left my room, closed the door, then tiptoed back, opened the door a tiny crack and peeked in to see what they were doing.

One day after I had been playing outside, I went into my room to find one of the dolls out of her bed. The next day Raggedy Ann was in the stroller. I knew that I had placed her on the bookshelf. Each day I noticed something different about my dolls when I returned to my room.

I continued the peeking routine to try to catch them at play, but they were always perfectly still. But the fact remained that anytime I returned to my room after a period of time, one or more of the dolls had moved. Sometimes they were even next to a toy or puzzle. I was convinced that they indeed played and talked to each other when I was gone.

Every time my mother read me the Raggedy Ann book I was so happy that my dolls were just like the ones in the book. I guess my vivid imagination let me believe this longer than I should have but I wanted to believe that my dolls had their own lives, and kept themselves busy when I wasn't around to play with them.

Of course it was my mother who faithfully moved the dolls each day. She later told me that she really enjoyed moving the dolls because she thought it was important for me to have the dreams of my imagination come true.