Christmas doll

Courtesy: Peggy Mayo-Standup

Story told by Peggy Mayo-Standup

Christmas was my favourite time of year. When I was about six years old, they had the most beautiful Christmas doll in the display of the general store. 

I was drooling over it. She had red curly hair, a beautiful bonnet. Her outfit was all Christmas colours, red velvet and green plaid, and beautiful black leather shoes, and a little buff for her hands. 

I wanted that doll so bad. I would go to the altar in the church, light a candle and pray. 

They also had a little toy rifle that looked like the one on TV on the popular program “Rifleman.” My brother was right beside me, praying for that toy rifle. 

We all had our wishes from Santa Claus, but we didn’t know that some had poor Santa Clauses and some had millionaire Santa Clauses. 

At the time, if we were lucky to get candy and nuts, we were happy.

Lo and behold, that Christmas day, I got the doll. And I know it wasn't my mother who got it. She was too poor. 

Somebody knew I wanted that doll, wrapped it in beautiful red wrapping paper, with green and plaid ribbons. It was there, underneath our skimpy little Christmas tree.

My brother Ralph got the rifle, and my sister Wendy got a red sled she had been eyeing as well. 

We never found out who our Santa Claus was that year.