Where I write

Where I write

November 28, 2011

An Alive Doll for Christmas

Last week I decided take a break from just thinking about me, myself and I and be a Christmas angel to a child. Really, it's just a tiny gesture when there is such a great need, but I like to believe even just one small thing might make a difference. I tell myself this if I get too overwhelmed thinking about kids living in poverty. Anyway, I took a paper angel off the tree (they have these same trees at shopping malls everywhere I imagine), and on the angel was written the name Litzi. I presented the angel to the woman sitting at the table by the tree and was handed an envelope. Inside was the letter shown above.

Litzi is in the fourth grade and she is nine years old. Her teacher's name is Mrs. Hatfield. What a perfect name for a teacher. Litzi's  favorite subject is writing. Oh I was so happy to see that. We have something in common already. She lives with her sister, uncle and two little cousins, spelled cauzens.  She said she liked to "play in the computer."

Okay. So she's still working on her English skills. Everyone who has read my blog knows by now I've got my own issues with spelling and grammar. Litzi said she wants to be an English teacher and my heart soared only to plummet a few seconds later when she listed what she wanted for Christmas. I imagined books, an educational game, something to help her have a successful career in life. A journal to hone her writing skills. Nope.

Litzi wants a baby.
She wrote "a baby with hes milk and other things." "A baby alive."
A baby alive! She wanted me to give her a baby. I never had kids when I was young.  That bus has long left the stop. Ain't happening. Not in this life time.

But she said her favorite subject was writing and she wants to be a teacher. She's nine years old. Why does she want a baby! I was bummed.

Then I spoke with my dear sister, Marilee. "Oh," said my sister. "There's a doll they advertise on television all the time called Baby Alive." Really? I had no idea. I ignore toy commercials and watch instead the  ones for cruises and shampoo to make my hair long and silky. Hey I can dream.  Here is Baby Alive which I purchased for Litzi under some protest.
 She drinks juice and goes to the bathroom which is why I bought the etra diapers. (oh why do kids want to change diapers!)  I told my sister that I didn't think it was a good idea to encourage a little girl to have babies. Oh, my sister said, but that's what she wants! Big deal, I thought. I want to get her what I think she should have. Again, you can tell I never had kids. My sister said no no no. You have to honor the child's request. Okay so I did. There are all sorts of Baby Alives I soon learned. Some are at the doctor, some are bouncing in a crib, another one talks. However, I couldn't help throwing in something I think Litzi  should have, too. I found a book I'm  going to wrap with Baby Alive.
I mean what little kid doesn't like the Wizard of Oz! In fact, I might read it before I gift wrap it! Anyway, all this thinking about dolls made me remember the last doll my mother ever bought me. At my insistence. I was already in junior high, but I wanted a doll. I must have known that my doll days would soon be over. Or maybe I knew I'd never be motivated enough to have my own children. We went to Grants Department Store in Hoffman Estates, and making sure no one from school saw me shopping in the doll aisle at my advanced age, I picked out this doll which I named Violet.
It's a miracle I still have Violet after moving a zillion times in my life. I had to dig through my closet to find her and she was upside down and naked. I found her purple dress, too, at the bottom of a box.  I forgive myself if her hair is all matted now and her dress a bit tattered. I'm just lucky that I didn't lose her somewhere between Chicago, Denver and now Phoenix with many stops in between.

I guess little girls, not all, but some have to have that one last doll. We know soon we will be more interested in makeup and boys and clothes and for awhile we want to pretend we will always be little girls. Actually now and then I still feel like a little girl and when I don't always get my way you might not see my stomping my foot and pouting but oh boy I am sure wanting, too! I hope Litzi is happy with her doll and is not pouting but smiling at Christmas. I wish that for us all!


Rita A. said...

What a wonderful story.
Litzi may just learn compassion and empathy and caring through taking care of that doll. All things she will use as a writer and teacher. To her it's a doll but really it is a learning tool.

At least all she'll get in the diaper is juice/watr and none of those stinkbombs that make you wonder why you ever considered becoming a parent.

Great post.

Anonymous said...

Awwww. Great story! That little girl is going to love her gift!

I love doing Christmas Angels. Every year I look for a little girl who wants a Barbie doll. That way I can give a deserving child a wonderful toy and I have an excuse to wander down the Barbie aisle and buy something fun. :-)

SunsetCindi said...

Remember back to the joy you felt when your mother let you pick out Violet for your very own friend who would love you no matter what and who would be with you through all of the journeys in your life. You have given Litzi that same gift of joy.

Anonymous said...

You've been given a Liebster Blog Award! :-)


Anonymous said...

Lucky Litzi to have you as her guardian angel!