A Christmas Story from Deb.

My Carrie ~ Christmas 1989

{she was 18 months old}

♥

Christmas, the year I was 7 years old: Though my memory of this particular Christmas is limited, I remember it better than any other. I remember that we lived with my grandmother in a tiny dark house because my dad was out of work and in hind sight I suppose that wasn't such a good time in our lives, but I remember being happy. I loved my grandmother and was happy to be there, and my mom had a baby in her tummy that would be born the following year. I remember hoping that Santa would know where to find us, seeing as how we were a bit displaced and living with Grandma, and hoped that he'd figure out a way in since Grandma didn't have a fireplace.

 

That was the year I discovered that Santa Claus had the exact same handwriting as my mom. Wow...how could that be?

 

And that was the year that Santa brought me a rag doll, handmade by one of his busiest elves: my mother. Oh how I loved that doll. She was probably about 16" tall, the perfect size for my seven-year-old-self. She had a sweet embroidered-on-face, and hair made of brown yarn with bangs that stuck out and cute tightly braided pigtails on each side of her face.

 

As a child, this toy was my one and only imaginary friend. I named her Suki and I pretended that she was a real girl that only I could communicate with. I loved her so much and took her everywhere I went. {The following year I would take her to school for show-and-tell and accidentally forget her at school, leaving her alone in that dark classroom all by herself overnight - I hardly slept at all that night myself!}

Christmas, the year I was 28 years old: I was so happy to have a little girl of my own. Carrie was such a sweet and fun little girl, and at 18 months old she understood the excitement of Christmas. I decided that I would invest my time in making a pair of dolls for her - Raggedy Ann and Andy to be precise. As I stitched these dolls together I imagined how Carrie would love them - how they might even become her favorite toy - perhaps even imaginary friends.

I went all out - made the largest size on the pattern. I found the perfect box to wrap them in and placed them under the tree. I couldn't wait till Christmas to see the look of sheer joy on her face when she opened that package.

Well, remember, Carrie was 18 months old. And you know the best part of Christmas when you are little like that is the empty box that the gift came in. Wrapping paper was flying and she was busy going from one package to another. When Raggedy Ann and Andy made their debut Carrie was less than impressed. I'll admit, they are rather strange looking dolls - what with their bright red hair and triangle noses. And that big size I made? They were taller than Carrie was at the time.

Christmas, the year I am 49 years old: Suki ended up being torn apart by a puppy we had {it was a horrific sight}, but Carrie still has Raggedy Ann and Andy. She did end up playing with them as she got a little older, and they moved out with her this past year when she purchased her own home. This year as I am busy making Christmas gifts by hand, I am humbled knowing the time spent and love invested by my mom when she made that rag doll for me - living in her mother-in-law's dark house with her fourth child on the way, with handwriting that was just like Santa's. I'm sure my mom had no idea at the time what a lasting impression that rag doll would have on me. I have always loved giving and receiving handmade gifts, and I think that started with Suki.

♥ ♥ ♥