In 1935 my grandmother gave me my Shirley Temple doll. Not only that, she gave me the little steamer trunk filled with doll clothes she had made--a tiny flower print dress, a yellow dress with pleats and matching panties with a pocket (I wore matching panties with my own dresses) and to top it off, a red wool crepe coat with six brass buttons and a matching hat with a little ermine tail in the ribbon band.
Time and moving caused me to lose everything but the two cotton dresses; I even lost the blue and white polka dot dancing dress that came with Shirley. My mother let me comb and brush her hair, which is not good. However, I have curled her golden mohair with an iron, had her restrung, and put her on display in her yellow dress; she looks just fine to me. I found the pattern for her coat and hat but I don't sew so that will be a project for someone in the future.
My grandmother gave me all my dolls including McGuffey Ana and a skating doll. I loved them all. I do think that no adult should ever take dolls and toys away from children. (That is shown in the cabbage doll story that a woman sent in.) Adults can never know the deep attachment children have to them (their dolls), and the memories associated with them. I always think of my grandmother when I look at my dolls. Isn't interesting how many people have mentioned their grandmothers in their stories?