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Childhood Treasures - The Christmas Doll

My parents, farmers on the rain-starved plains of eastern Colorado, rarely had a crop that paid more than enough to feed the livestock and to buy a few groceries.

The rare exception was the year, 1934, when I was six; the pinto bean crop that year was a good one.

Mother, so excited she was able finally to give me a gift, woke me while it was still dark on Christmas morning. “Look, Wilma, here’s a doll for you.”

And wonder of wonder, she handed me the thrill of a doll wearing a lovely dress, and teensy socks and shoes that I could put on and off. I clutched her to my chest.

Unfortunately, after two or three days my 3-year-old brother wanted to hold her and Mother insisted I share. He slammed her down on the concrete step, breaking her head - and my heart!

She was the only doll I ever got as a child.

Wilma Gundy

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Oh Wilma, that is such a beautiful and sad story wrapped into one. But I do remember you telling me that the beautiful doll on your bookshelf is from Lloyd because he wanted you to have your own doll. He was such a sweet man!

Wilma Gundy
Wilma Gundy
Dec 24, 2023
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I am going to write that story also.


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