Keepsake memories

Last night I went to a women's event at my church.  They had a "get to know you" game, where a ball was thrown and you had to answer the question that was directly in front of you.  So before the ball made it to me, I began thinking of what answers I would give to the questions others were responding to, so that I would be prepared when it came to me.  One of the questions was, "What is something you have had for a long time that you probably should throw away or get rid of?"

I didn't get this question, but it brought to mind a little trunk I have in my basement.  Wherever I have moved, it has moved with me, though I barely ever open it.  And, if I do, it takes me 20 minutes to figure out how to get everything back into it to fit!  But in this trunk, I have the most prized possessions of my childhood.  I don't like clutter and I am not very sentimental about possessions, but this box holds the handful of things that held the most memory from growing up.

One item in this box is a baby doll.  A small plastic baby with a blond pixie haircut, a lacy dress with pink ribbon trim, and eyes that open and shut.  This baby doll looks like it needs to bypass goodwill and go to the landfill, but it is one of my most treasured toys.

I was the youngest child in my family and I came along 6 years after my parents thought they were done having kids.  My sisters were past the doll phase by the time I got old enough for them.  My dad always wanted boys, so he tended to want buy us trucks, trains, BB guns, and the like.  On top of this, we didn't have a lot of money, so toys only came at Christmas and never were name brand.

I remember one year I asked for a Cabbage Patch doll and my parents got me a creature that looked like a mutant baby of a Cabbage Patch and an albino Monchhichi.  My friends didn't know what to do with it.  It had clothes like a baby, but the face of a monkey with white yarn hair.  Needless to say, this did not make it into my keepsake chest!

But one year, I asked for a doll I had seen on T.V. that actually peed in potty.  On Christmas morning, wonder of all wonders, I opened the wrapping and saw the doll I had asked for looking up at me.

I played for days or even weeks with her, happily feeding her water with her bottle while she laid down and then sitting her up and - voila - gravity would take it's course and the water would come out through the hole between her legs.

Then one day I got curious.  I am not sure why, but I wanted to know how the water got to point A to point B.  So I got a big safety pin and I sneaked into my parents bedroom.  I laid the baby down, gave her water and then began sticking the pin in the baby's belly.  The water didn't come out at first, so I kept sticking more holes, trying to figure out exactly where this water was located in her stomach.  So I gave her a little more water.  All of a sudden, she looked like a yard sprinkler for a second - and then it was over.  I sat her up, the rest of the water trickled out the bottom, while a little more escaped the tiny punctures in her tummy, getting the beautiful lacy dress wet in the process.

I then realized that I had ruined my doll that I had wanted so badly in less than 5 minutes.  I was heartbroken.  But couldn't tell anyone because my parents had finally bought me the toy I had really, really wanted and I had messed it up.

As I was thinking of this doll last night, I recall Elias and Bella doing similar things with toys that they received.  Things they wanted so badly and they either broke them by being too careless or because they were simply curious or didn't realize the consequence of what they were doing.  I have been so frustrated with them.  I have said things I heard my parents say to me like, "I don't know why you can't take care of the things you get.", "You should appreciate the things you have. There are a lot of kids around the world who would love to have it.", etc.  Or I will want to get them the cheap knock-off version of a toy, instead of the name brand one that they've asked for, because I know they won't take care of it or that the name brand isn't worth the money.

But reliving that experience in my head has given me a new found grace and appreciation for my little critters and the toys they want and the toys they've broken or lost or otherwise not taken care of the way I think they should. 

Even though this doll's dress is now yellowed and dry rotted and her stomach a fountain, she is still one of my most prized possessions.  So much so that I have moved her hundreds of miles and remember her with such vivid clarity.

I may just have to pull that box out and see what other memories are sparked!

Do you have a prized possession?  What is it and where do you keep it?