When I was a little girl, I had many dolls. We would get a new one each Christmas. My mother could make the prettiest rag dolls I ever saw.
The "store bought" dolls had china heads, hands, and feet. My mother kept a china-head doll as long as she lived, which was 83 years. She gave it to a granddaughter. "Old Lucy" was the doll's name, and we could play with her at times. But we had to be so careful with her, we'd rather have our rag dolls.
I remember my cousin and I loved to play with our dolls. We loved to sew for them. We would meet on a Sunday and go down in the pasture and play all day. That went on for a number of years, for we grew up together. I remember once we buried a doll. It had a china head. How I'd love to go find the place and dig it up!
I still love dolls. Each winter I make rag dolls, sock dolls, apple-head dolls. I have a doll head made from a piece of corncob with a face painted on the end. It was purchased at a gift shop and had on an old-fashioned bonnet. I made a body and put an old-fashioned dress on the doll. It made a cute grandma.
I have two Indian dolls. I also make those kind. I keep my grandchildren well supplied with them.
How nice it is to sit and remember happenings in the past! Memory is a God-given gift. I have had an interesting life and still have. I'm proud to be living, to have seen the landing of the men on the moon. We are sure many other wonderful achievements will come in the future.
I will conclude this article with this thought: "Old age is not a number of years. It is a state of mind. It has been observed that a woman is as old as she looks and a man is as old as he feels. As a matter of fact, both are as old as they think."
August 4, 1969