Me-Ma's Doll

My precious doll is holding a doll that my paternal grandmother, Me-Ma, made many, many years ago.

A woman born into poverty, my grandmother, Winnie Wall, learned at a young age to be thrifty and clever and resourceful. In her adult life, she had very little by way of money. She worked and saved and made do, or she simply did without.

I don't ever have single memory of her complaining. What a tribute to this warm, congenial, very small woman with a very big heart.

Had she had the opportunity, she could have gone to college and pursued a career. She probably would have been an architect or designer; instead, she farmed, she worked in a children's home in Oklahoma, she took care of her large extended family, and she sewed clothes for friends and neighbors. She found daily, practical outlets for her creativity--well-prepared food, seasonal roses, and a host of other garden-variety interests. She made the best coconut-cream pie I've ever tasted, and she always kept a pull-out drawer in her kitchen filled with a package of chocolate covered grahams wrapped in a rubber band to be set free by her granddaughters when they visited. She could also play a mean game of spoons and dominoes and cards--she's probably the only one who could actually beat my dad at any of those games! :-)

She collected green stamps, liked to watch Lawrence Welke on Saturdays, enjoyed the company of her husband, and seemed content to enjoy the blessings of her life. I don't know what she worried or wondered about, or how she filled all the hours of her day, but I do know that when her maroon screen door opened into the world, and we were there in it, she always greeted us with pure joy. To be loved, and to know it, is a treasured gift.

That's what I am going to think about when I see this doll. My parents brought it to me on their recent visit; there were 3 of these dolls, and each sister is getting one. My grandmother made the body of the doll from an Ivory soap bottle filled with rocks; she then designed and made the dress, which has a fancier hemline and cuffs than one from a store. Instead of buttons, she used straight pins with colored heads for the buttons on the bodice and for the doll's earrings.

Grace loves the doll. We call it "Me-Ma's doll", and Grace likes to carry it around and pat it's head, saying, "pwetty hair."

I wish I had really known my grandmother, adult-to-adult. I wish she had known Rob. I wish she had known my children; she would adore them, because that's just the kind of grandmother she was. She would just be so delighted by everything about them, and she would have enjoyed just being in their company.

So all these years later, the work of my grandmother's hands sits securely in another precious pair of hands. May my daughter continue to live out the heritage of love and faithfulness, and like my grandmother, may her hands cause things to bloom.

Jana