MY PORCELAIN DOLL

A Short Story

SPENDING CHRISTMAS WITH MY MOTHER WAS THE BEST HOLIDAY EVER.  WE NEVER TIRED OF THE CUSTOMARY TRADITIONS OF OUR FRENCH-AMERICAN FAMILY.  IT WAS CHRISTMAS EVE, AS I TUCKED MOTHER IN BED, WHEN SHE ABRUPTLY POINTED TO THE BEAUTIFUL PORCELAIN DOLL ADORNING HER CHEST OF DRAWERS WHEN SHE ASKED, ‘DO YOU REMEMBER HER, YOUR FAVORITE DOLL?’  SURPRISED AT WHAT SHE SPOKE, PERPLEXED, I REPLIED NO.  SHE COMMENTED FURTHER HOW ‘ONE EVENING WHEN YOUR PAPA CAME HOME FROM WORK, YOU GREETED HIM SWINGING YOUR RAGGEDY BEAR AND HE SAID, ‘TOMORROW PLEASE GET HER A LOVELY DOLL AND THROW AWAY THAT MESSY BEAR.’  I DON’T REMEMBER THAT AT ALL!

MY LAST CHRISTMAS WITH MOTHER WAS SO TENDER.  NOW, MY PORCELAIN DOLL SITS ON A DAYBED IN MY PRAYER CORNER AND WHEN I GLANCE AT HER, I REMEMBER MY MOTHER’S LOVE FOR ME.

THANK YOU DEAR MAMAN, your scribe for love