Little Doll

Papa M.'s new baby, to be given at Christmas. (Ordered from this Etsy shop - fabulous craftsmanship and customer service.)

 
If I had a dream for the world it would be that every child, girl or boy, should have a doll. There is something exceptionally special about those soft little beings made solely to be loved by a child. There is so much to be learned from caring for someone else, even if that someone is made of cloth or plastic. You find your empathy, caring for a doll, at it's deepest roots, because, no matter how good your imagination is, at your core you still know that even if you don't wrap Dolly up tight or you forget to give him his afternoon snack, Dolly won't freeze and certainly won't go hungry. Yet, it's still done, often with a great sense of urgency and seriousness. What vast wells of love must we doll caregivers have to love so mightily someone who doesn't really need us and will never be able to audibly thank us?

If everyone played with a doll there might be more of that empathy growing around us, rampant like dandelions in the height of spring, left to be plucked up and enjoyed by every passing person, gathered in bunches, worn in hair, handed in clumps to anyone we think might need it. If all little children had their own cloth companion to clutch, to whisper secrets to, to bring on adventures, we might invite the idea of companionship into our children's heads. It is a good thing to have a friend who listens to you and holds your words with silence and honor and trusts you to do the same.

If I could, I would be sure all children, girl or boy, felt no shame in wanting a doll. There is no right gender for a doll, nor is there no right age. There is not one doll that is better than another, whether it is the mama-made-with-love rag doll or the beautifully detailed store-bought doll. All dolls are just what they ought to be for whom they belong, just as we, those who love those dolls, are just as we ought to be for them.