There he sits, in the little antique chair, dressed in his faded red and white striped jacket, wearing his tattered blue pants and his brown and white oxford shoes. His permanent smile beams and it makes me smile to look at him. To me, he is a constant reminder of a mother’s love for her child.
“Sonny Boy” is the last doll that I received for Christmas. I was ten years old and after that year I wanted other things for Christmas.
I had seen the doll in a store window and told my mother that was the one I wanted for Christmas that year. She said that she would talk to Santa Claus and see if he would bring it on Christmas Eve. I remember the excitement as I waited for Santa to come and bring me the doll.
One day, while working in my parents’ store, I was looking for something under one of the counters and discovered a strange box. As I looked at the box I knew that it was the doll that I had wanted. My dad realized what I had found and said that my mother had bought it for me. I was happy that I was getting the doll but some of the thrill of waiting was gone. I looked forward to Christmas with different feelings.
Several years later I found out the entire story about how she got the doll. He was in a store about 10 miles from where we lived. In order to get the doll for me, my mother rode with the mail carrier to the other town one morning and stayed the entire day until she could ride home with the carrier in the evening. Our family only had one vehicle and my dad needed it so she did not have other means of transportation. She knew that I wanted the doll and she was determined to get it for me even if it meant the sacrifice of an entire day for her.
Many happy hours were spent playing with Sonny Boy but as the years passed he was replaced with other things in my life and he was stored away with my other childhood things.
Years later while cleaning out the closet at my parents’ home, I found Sonny Boy along with two of my other dolls in a plastic bag. His cloth body was in need of repair and his vinyl head, legs, and arms needed to be cleaned. I carried him to a doll repairer who told me that he was an American Character Doll and would probably be worth several hundred dollars. I told her he was worth more than that to me. She cleaned him up and made him a new body but I kept the old clothes. I bought some material to make him some new ones but decided that I would keep the ones that had been well used.
One day when our granddaughter was visiting she came walking in the den with Sonny Boy under her arm. Since her mother knew he was an old doll, she told Emily to put him back in the bedroom. I told her it was okay to let Emily play with him. Even though I knew he was just a doll, it seemed that the smile on his face was brighter. He had another little girl to play with him and give him love and I was glad that he was still giving happiness to a child.
As I think of Christmas and look at Sonny Boy I think of the love that was given. Even though there were bad times with my mother, I look at Sonny Boy and remember that love. He reminds me that love will overcome the bad things that happen in our lives and we can find joy in the good.
As we remember Christmas, let us remember the love that was given and is still given to us each day. Let us realize that we can find joy in our lives if we will only look for it.
Laura Young copyright 2003 Lyoung7990@aol.com
I am a retired high school secretary. My husband and I enjoy traveling and visiting family and friends. I have started working on my family history and this year and have been able to reconnect with some of my family. I have had several stories on 2 The Heart: The Hill, The Litter Lady, Mother’s Day and A Christmas Story.