The Broken Doll

 

Last updated 11/24/2018 at 5:29pm



I was in a junk store a few years ago, it's one of my favorite places to shop. I like used books, and sometimes I find an odd cup or old plate that catches my fancy. Everything in the store has been donated or thrown away by someone who no longer wanted it. I saw a small antique doll that had a rough life. The doll's dress was faded and torn and it was missing a leg. It was only a quarter and I felt sorry for it and decided to buy it, when I got to the checkout stand the clerk saw the doll was missing and a leg and told me I could have it for free.

For some reason I've become attached to the little doll and it sits on my bookshelf.

I like antiques, I like things that have been used, things that had a life before they became part of my life. I wonder about their history, who owned them, had they been a gift, were they something special to someone?

I decided not to go Christmas shopping this year. I don't like the crowds or the traffic and I usually spend more than I planned, and then I worry about whether or not I bought the right gifts.

This year I'm giving "used" gifts from my own home, things I've had for years that I enjoy and have become attached to.

I'm going to give all my jewelry to my daughter. It doesn't have any value; the most valuable piece is a turquoise Navajo necklace I bought at a trading post in New Mexico years ago, I paid $40 for it. There's some bracelets made of wooden beads and a pendant made from an 1888 coin. They have a history, they have memories, and it's not easy to let them go, I hope she'll like them.

I'm giving away a hundred books to a friend who is confined to his home and can no longer go to the library. I'm sending some paintings to a friend in Canada. I'm giving an antique cream pitcher from England and a Chinese medicine bottle that's 150 years old to a friend in Texas. A basket someone wove from grass long ago will go to a friend in Missouri. A collection of old brass keys and a pocket watch that never keeps the correct time but it is beautifully engraved with a picture of a deer on the silver case will go to my oldest grandson. A hand carved bird that isn't quite perfect (the beak is too large) but has character and sort of grows on you will be given to my neighbor.

I have a piece of a fossilized mastodon tooth that was given to me by an Eskimo-Aleut when I lived in Alaska. I'm giving it to my youngest grandson; he's at an age where he is fascinated by dinosaurs, and he'll be thrilled to have a piece of a mastodon tooth thousands of years old. I'll tell my grandson that the man who gave it to me shared some whale blubber with me. It was the first and last time I ate whale blubber.

I've had a banjo for eight years. I have tried to learn how to play it for eight years. I have no musical talent at all. Every once in awhile I'd dig the banjo out and plunk around on it for awhile and then put it back into the closet where it would stay until the next time I'd dig it out and try again. A woman I know said she loved country music and she played the guitar. I asked her if she knew how to play a banjo and she said she always want to try to play a banjo but they cost a lot more than a guitar so she never had the chance to play one. She's getting a banjo for Christmas.

pixabay.com/mishelved

I'll miss the things I'm giving away because I've lived with them a long time and they all have memories clinging to them like dust, but maybe it is time for them to move on and bring pleasure to someone else. There will be some empty spaces on my shelves and on my walls but I'm giving things I love, to the people I love.

I might give away the one legged doll-or maybe I'll keep her another year.

John 3:16 tells us that God so loved us that He gave the ultimate precious gift: His Son. As we celebrate that day this wonderful gift of love was given to the world, how can you show others you love them?

Merry Christmas, and God bless us, every one.

Crying Wind is the author of Crying Wind, My Searching Heart, When the Stars Danced, Thunder in Our Hearts, Lightning in Our Veins, and Stars in the Desert.

 
 

Powered by ROAR Online Publication Software from Lions Light Corporation
© Copyright 2024