That was at the same time that my love affair with Little House on the Prairie grew to a full blown obsession.
I loved my doll. Her ruffled bloomers, her little white dress with tiny purple lilacs scattered about and deep purple ribbons on the bodice and sleeves. Of all of the dolls that we received, mine had the longest hair and I would spend hours styling it with braids, twists, pony and pig tails. I adored her and created a bed for her with a cardboard box, pillow and baby blanket.
She may very well have been my first and only doll, as I don't really recall having other dolls throughout my childhood. She was mine and I loved her, doted on her, read to her, at a time that other children may have already put away their dolls and moved on to other toys.
And then everyone in Walnut Grove went and got Scarlet Fever.
My doll took to her bed for days. I kept cool compresses on her forehead day and night. I worried over her, singing little made up songs about what we would do when she got well until one morning, I woke up early -panicked. I walked quietly to the living room where I had quarantined her sick bed to so that she would not infect my brother and sister's dolls. She was dead.
I packed her up into the box, dug a hole for her in our backyard and buried her.
That was the last doll I ever had (again, it was probably the only one).
Now that I have Z, I feel as though we have come full circle. She has a new little girl doll. She has never had a doll that wasn't a baby and she totes this doll around like it is her new best friend. When I asked her if she loved the doll, she whispered, "I love her, I really do, I think I will name her Heather".
Heather accompanies us everywhere. The ride to school, the ballet, lunch. Wherever we go, Heather is there.
I have made her a bed from a cardboard box - a bit more sophisticated than my earlier attempt, I admit. And she sleeps in my girl's room each and every night.
As long as we stay away from Walnut Grove - I think she will be alright.
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