Date: 
2006
Author: 
Beverly Booth



I'm almost 75 years old now, and love with all my heart, the little doll I was given when I was 6 years old.

There were two brothers and one sister in my family. My folks never had money to buy things like dolls for my sister and me or toys for my brothers.

One Saturday night we went to town and I saw a beautiful little doll in the Kress store window. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

I guess my mother saw me looking so sad as I walked away from the window, and the next thing I knew, dad came out with a box, and handed it to me. To my surprise there was MY doll. My mother gave me the biggest smile and kiss, and said, "You needed that."

The reason we never ever had any extra money was that my dad was a big alcoholic. Mother told me, "What was spent on the doll would be some money he wouldn't spend on liquor".

My mother was the most loving, wonderful, mother a girl could have. She died when I was 16, and every day I look at my doll with all the love that I shared, and still have for my mother. I realize my dad bought it but I know it was my mother that told him to go and buy it for me. My mother gave up a pair of new shoes that she really needed, just for me to have the doll.

I have a granddaughter now, and I will pass my doll on to her when I'm gone. I have told her about the love that went with that doll from her great-grandmother, and to always tell each generation about that special mother that loved a little girl, needing a doll, instead of her needing shoes.