Little Girl

Driving out of the supermarket car park yesterday, I saw a little girl. She was about 6 years old I suppose, wrapped up against the wind in a blue puffer padded jacket, a red and white striped scarf and matching hat, warm winter leggings and a pair of boots that came to about mid calf. She was laughing and holding her Mummy’s hand as they crossed the pedestrian crossing in front of me.

What got my attention though was what she held in her other hand, a doll. By the look of it, not one of these expensive designer dolls, but a doll that was obviously loved and probably taken everywhere with her. Mummy was smiling too, and I thought what a change from the miserable kids I’d left behind in the supermarket, those throwing tantrums for not getting their own way, and wearing their parents down to a frazzled heap of close-to-the-surface eruptive temper.

It got me thinking of my childhood. Things were quite different then. For starters, my Mum didn’t drive, there was no 24 hour opening or Sunday shopping, and at the age of 6, I could easily nip down to the local ‘Mace’ store on Mum’s behalf as it was on the same side of the road as our house and less than five minutes walk, even for my little legs.

I had a variety of dolls too but no particular favourite (that honour was reserved for my Teddy Bear) . I left one on the bus once, and she was handed in to the Lost Property Office, duly retrieved on our next visit to the bus station. The Talking, Crying Baby dolls and those you could feed (and subsequently change) were just coming onto the market, but luckily for my parents (who couldn’t have afforded one let alone two as us girls were always treated the same) , I never wanted one.

I always wanted a Bride Doll though. One wearing a beautiful long gown in white silk, trimmed with lace, bows and embroidered flowers, with a tiara and full length veil covering her head. Surprisingly it was my brother and his fiancee who bought me one for Christmas in 1964, and it held pride of place on my dressing table to admire, not play with.

My paternal great grandmother was a seamstress. When she and Grampy came for a holiday, by the end of it, my sister and I would have at least two new dresses, and our dollies would have ones to match. Mum was more of a knitter, and so the dolls’ wardrobes contained little jumpers and cardigans as well. Barbie and Sindy had nothing on our girls, although they wore plastic stilettos compared to the little woolly bootees you’d find on our dolls’ feet.

Today I see dolls in shop windows so lifelike, you think they are real babies. They cost the earth and I pity any parent with a demanding daughter wanting one. I see young girls pushing prams or push chairs, and in some cases do a double take as the ‘child’ pushing the pram is actually a Mum and the baby real. It makes me feel so very, very old.

I’m smiling now though as I think of that little girl yesterday. So happy, so carefree, as she skipped along at her mother’s side, excitedly talking to her dolly as she hugged it tightly to her chest to keep it out of the wind. If only Life was always like that.

 

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About pensitivity101

I am a retired number cruncher with a vivid imagination and wacky sense of humour which extends to short stories and poetry. I love to cook and am a bit of a dog whisperer as I get on better with them than people sometimes! In November 2020, we lost our beloved Maggie who adopted us as a 7 week old pup in March 2005. We decided to have a photo put on canvas as we had for her predecessor Barney. We now have three pictures of our fur babies on the wall as we found a snapshot of Kizzy, my GSD when Hubby and I first met so had hers done too. On February 24th 2022 we were blessed to find Maya, a 13 week old GSD pup who has made her own place in our hearts. You can follow our training methods, photos and her growth in my blog posts. From 2014 to 2017 'Home' was a 41 foot narrow boat where we made strong friendships both on and off the water. We were close to nature enjoying swan and duck families for neighbours, and it was a fascinating chapter in our lives. We now reside in a small bungalow on the Lincolnshire coast where we have forged new friendships and interests.
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