The Christmas Doll

T h o m a s  L y n n

Lawrenceville GA

Lucille was four years old and the youngest of six children. Christmas was approaching but the family was poor and there was no expectation that Santa would bring any presents this year. Papa had gone to his grave two years ago and times were hard. Jobs were scarce and the family had little money from day to day.

Mama earned what she could--taking in washing and sewing clothes for more fortunate families and she was sad that her own children had to do without. Yet, they filled their house with love and that was important, still, it was hard for Lucille to understand why they had so little food and, except for the kitchen stove, no heat to keep them warm at night. Her four sisters tried to explain why there would be no presents again this year.

Christmas was special because they would at least have oranges for a holiday treat. Papa used to say he could smell the sunshine from the land where oranges grew and he could taste the raindrops that sprinkled from heaven. Horace, the only boy among all those girls, once brought home a sack of oranges and rolled them into the house one at a time just to hear his sisters squeal with delight. The girls darted after them across the floor and chased under the beds until every one had been gathered.

“This year will be different,” Mama promised. “Santa will bring baby Lucille a doll, and a store-bought one at that.”

The older girls never had a real doll when they were growing up. Mama always made their dolls from cloth remnants left over from dressmaking. But she was determined that Lucille should have a real one this year. She had been saving up pennies and nickels for months to have enough money.

Babies were the softest and most cuddly things that little girls could ever imagine. In fact, Frances, who was a year older, often teased her little sister into thinking she would some day be a little baby again because she was growing backwards. Lucille did not mind at all about growing backwards because babies were sweet and she was excited to know that she would be one again.

Dolls were just like babies for sweetness and she was thrilled to think she would soon have a real one of her very own and maybe a carriage just like her sister.

Weeks and months passed and the pennies and nickels continued to grow but Mama soon realized there would not be enough money waved in time to buy the doll. She would have only enough to buy a porcelain head. She would have to make the rest from cloth scraps. The important thing was for the doll to have a real head.

She confided in the other children because she needed them to keep baby Lucille busy while she sewed the doll’s arms and legs and to make clothes like a real doll would wear. Then one day she discovered that the store sold out of all porcelain doll heads and would not be able to get any more until after Christmas. Mama was devastated! What could she do now? He little girl would be so sad when Santa failed to bring the doll after she promised.

But she reckoned without Lucille’s sisters. When they found out that the doll head would not arrive in time for Christmas, they each began to hint about how unique it would be to have such a doll.

“You might be the only little girl in town to have a doll without a head,” Frances said.

“That’s right,” the others agreed. “All the other girls will come around just to see your doll because nobody else will have one like it.”

“Oh! Can I, Mama?” Lucille pleaded, “Can I have a doll without a head?” She became so excited at the prospect that she could hardly wait until Christmas morning so she could unwrap her present.

Mama worked feverishly to have the rest of the doll finished in time, and on Christmas morning it was ready. The family awoke early, put on their robes because the weather was cold outside, and gathered around the small tree. There, they found Lucille fast asleep with her arms snuggled around the headless doll that Santa brought her.

She loved it dearly. Mama had knitted a bonnet and Lucille carried it around where a head should be until the new porcelain head finally arrived and was fitted to the doll. But somehow the doll seemed to take on a new personality and wasn’t quite the same.

Years later, Lucille was asked if she believed her headless doll was really something special.

“You have to remember that I was only four years old,” she replied. “Perhaps kids of today wouldn’t be so easily persuaded to accept a doll without a head. Maybe modern kids are smarter that I was, but you know, I believed everything my sisters told me, and why not? We were a family and they loved me as much as I loved them.”

“Somehow,” her eyes misted, “I miss that little doll so much.”

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