In the 1980’s my mom called and asked me to come take what I wanted from my folks’ storage areas.

Mom was retiring and on a tear to get the house streamlined so that she could relax and not have to dig through “stuff” to find what she wanted. With the left behind items of four children, I had to agree that her days as being the free storage location needed to end.

I’d forgotten about most things I found there, but when I uncovered my 1950’s bride doll, my mind immediately wandered back to my elementary school years.

She had no name, just “My Bride Doll” and she was for display only. When I saw the rip in the netting of her skirt, I was saddened. I told myself, “That is what happens to things stored away for so long.”

That doll is one of the few things that I took home with me that day.


bride doll

bride doll

Georgene (July ‘12) adds, “My Bride Doll now resides on a chair in my spare bedroom. I have no children to pass her down to. I had the same thought as Frances did about her dolls when I took my doll home: “What am I going to do with her!”

Sometimes when I am in the spare room searching for some stored-away item, I see her dark hair and lashes, her blue eyes following me across the room. I pick her up, give her a hug, admire her plastic high heel shoes and sigh over the rip in her net skirt. Then I put her back down on the chair. I’m just glad she is here with me!”

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