“…He knows when you are sleeping. He knows when you’re awake. He knows if you been bad or good, so be GOOD for goodness sakes…”
I thought about all those times I didn’t do what my Mama said, along with the remembered pain from those subsequent hickory-switches to the back of my legs. I was NOT always good, for goodness sakes!
Finally Christmas Eve arrived. I carefully arranged cookies for Santa on a plate and placed it under the tree with a glass of milk. I reasoned that perhaps the cookies would be so delicious that Santa would forget how I had hit my little brother the week before. And if he did see me misbehaving, maybe he would know that my little brother deserved that whack. Or maybe not. I put two extra cookies on the plate for good measure.
Christmas morning arrived. My brother and I weren’t allowed to go into the living room until we woke up our parents. They were always bleary-eyed and sleepy as we stood by their bed, hopping up and down. “Get up! Get up!” we pleaded in unison. “We want to see what Santa brought us!”
To this day, I still vividly remember the excitement and wonder as we stood in the doorway of the living room. The lights and tinsel twinkled magically from the tree, casting a beautiful glow on the toys that were underneath it. For a few seconds we were rooted to that spot in the doorway, staring in awe. Then the excitement won out and we pounced!
There she was! My special doll was there! I fumbled for the wooden knob on her back. I turned it and she began to move slowly as I cuddled her in the crook of my arm. Oh, how I loved her from that moment on! My very own Tiny Thumbelina! Santa had brought me the best doll a little girl could ever receive!
A few months later at the end of a 1960s summer day, I forgot and left my Tiny Thumbelina lying in our yard overnight. The next morning I rushed out to where I knew I had left her and she was gone. It was a hard lesson learned that I needed to take care of my possessions. I mourned Thumbelina's loss for a long, long time.
Years later I once mentioned to my husband that of all the dolls I had ever received, the one I wished I still had was Tiny Thumbelina. Several years ago, he gave me the gift of an authentic, still working 1960s Tiny Thumbelina doll in an original box. Thank you, Monty (and eBay!)
I’ve also been reminiscing, pondering, and musing on these topics:
The lost art of letter writing
Cups for hot mochas. Say Good Night Gracie.
My first visit to the library with my Mama
Driving Mama over the Edge
It’s a Little Off the Wall
Crushing on The Professor
The Avocado Tree
From Baby Food Jars to Peanut Butter Jars
Theory of Pancake Relativity
The Pajama Party
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