Mr. Arthur
Three weeks ago, our family took our nightly walk with the two little girls in their double jogging stroller. Baby Scout toted a doll with her, a plush, pink, non-descript baby-doll. The doll was not a favorite but certainly was due all the love and affection any baby girl’s doll demands.
As we turned toward home on our block, we noticed that the doll was gone from our presence. We had been walking for over an hour, covering much of our old neighborhood. None of us had noticed when the doll parted with us, and we grieved. Older sister was more worried and anxious about her fate, so I promised to go look for her after bed-time.
Trying to be a good and faithful Daddy, I laced up the running shoes after the girls were asleep. After scouring our yard, under both cars and in all pertaining bushes and shrubs, I hit the bricks and ran our route all over again. I spoke with a friendly security guard and put him on alert. I saw another neighbor walking her dog in the park and implored her vigilance. All was to no avail, because I did not find the doll.
I began conjuring useful stories. That night on the walk, we had discussed and rehearsed much of wishing on stars. I told the inquiring Big Sister the next morning that I wondered whether some lonely little girl had wished for a doll to keep her company and whether our wee doll had not left us to befriend the other needy child. After a few more questions, we all resigned ourselves to her permanent loss.
Saturday, Big Sister and I tied balloons in a crepe myrtle in our yard, to help guide some students and faculty coming over for a party. We noted nothing out of the ordinary.
This morning, as I left for work, waving at my family assembled on the front porch, I noticed something strange in the fork of a branch in the same crepe myrtle.
Lo and behold! In the fork of that branch was our baby doll! She was clean, unsoiled, dry and pleasant as the night we lost her. I jumped from my car and retrieved her and delivered her to happy Scout on the porch, as my wife and I gaped at each other. Big Sister was thrilled.
I have no workable theories about the doll-baby’s return, but I am glad that we moved back to Alabama where such things have been known to happen to the benefit of lawyer’s daughters.
As we turned toward home on our block, we noticed that the doll was gone from our presence. We had been walking for over an hour, covering much of our old neighborhood. None of us had noticed when the doll parted with us, and we grieved. Older sister was more worried and anxious about her fate, so I promised to go look for her after bed-time.
Trying to be a good and faithful Daddy, I laced up the running shoes after the girls were asleep. After scouring our yard, under both cars and in all pertaining bushes and shrubs, I hit the bricks and ran our route all over again. I spoke with a friendly security guard and put him on alert. I saw another neighbor walking her dog in the park and implored her vigilance. All was to no avail, because I did not find the doll.
I began conjuring useful stories. That night on the walk, we had discussed and rehearsed much of wishing on stars. I told the inquiring Big Sister the next morning that I wondered whether some lonely little girl had wished for a doll to keep her company and whether our wee doll had not left us to befriend the other needy child. After a few more questions, we all resigned ourselves to her permanent loss.
Saturday, Big Sister and I tied balloons in a crepe myrtle in our yard, to help guide some students and faculty coming over for a party. We noted nothing out of the ordinary.
This morning, as I left for work, waving at my family assembled on the front porch, I noticed something strange in the fork of a branch in the same crepe myrtle.
Lo and behold! In the fork of that branch was our baby doll! She was clean, unsoiled, dry and pleasant as the night we lost her. I jumped from my car and retrieved her and delivered her to happy Scout on the porch, as my wife and I gaped at each other. Big Sister was thrilled.
I have no workable theories about the doll-baby’s return, but I am glad that we moved back to Alabama where such things have been known to happen to the benefit of lawyer’s daughters.
posted by JRB at 3:20 PM
2 Comments:
Well, of course an angel left her there, Mr. J! All little princesses would know that! Just ask one of your three!
(Great story. Lovely snippit into the lives of my dear friends we miss)
SR
I'm grinning from ear to ear after reading this. Love it.
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