This is Dahlia (daylia). She was my first ever Christmas doll. I was about 18 months old when I got her. That same Christmas, Santa brought me a little red rocking chair as well (which I still have).
My mother says that I walked right up to her, picked her up and sat down in the chair and began to rock and sing to her.
She was my constant companion. By the time I'd had her a little more than a year, we had to restuff her body, as I had loved her flat! I remember sitting in my grandparent's living room (we were living with them at the time) with my mother. She explained that she was the doctor and I was the nurse and we were going to operate on Dahlia. It was all very serious. We plumped her up with cotton balls!
For years she was half bald, because I carried her around by her hair.
Once when I was in high school, I came home from some activity to find Dahlia sitting on the mantel in a new dress. My mother had been home alone and made Dahlia some new clothes -- just because.
A few years ago I found a doll repair specialist and turned Dahlia over to her with very specific instructions.
It was a lot like leaving a child alone at the hospital. What was I thinking? What was SHE thinking?
A couple of weeks later my husband picked her up and I dressed her in the new outfit I had bought for her.
I love her just as much now as I did that first time I saw her. She now sits at the foot of my bed with other beloved folks. She is a treasure!
(this is a repost from 10/1/10)
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