It was a cold December 24th long ago when my sister and I heard that the Elks were giving out dolls to all the little girls in town. We were living in Boonton, New Jersey. It was just a small city with a blacksmith shop where we loved to go after school. The smell of hay was such a treat to a city child. The main street had a five and ten, a drug store, a theater, and an A&P store where Mama did her shopping. The Elks home was about eight blocks from our house. We hurried along only to find that the line of kids was so long that they were standing outside.
“How long do you think we’ll have to wait till our turn comes?” I asked my sister.
“I don’t know. It will be a couple of hours I guess”, she said, “and I’m frozen already.”
We were not dressed warmly enough as there were ten of us in the family and my parents could not afford warm coats and shoes for each of us, so we wore each other’s hand-me-downs. My coat had no buttons on it so I pinned it the best I could. My shoes were worn thin and my feet were cold. But I didn’t mind it one bit just as long as I was going to get a new doll.
It was late in the afternoon dusk when our turn came to meet Santa and get our dolls. It was one of the happiest moments of my life when he handed me the package. I opened the box, and there was the most beautiful doll I had ever seen. She had soft, curly hair, her face was porcelain, and her beautiful blue eyes opened and closed. She was dressed in a lacy dress, her face was framed in a white bonnet, and on her feet she wore white socks, and a pair of patent leather shoes.
My sister and I were so delighted with ourselves that we forgot our frozen feet and ran all the way home to show the family what Santa had given to us. They couldn’t believe their eyes when we showed them our dolls and that night two happy and tired little girls went to bed.
And that is why, to this day, my granddaughters always get a Christmas doll.
Irene Becker, reprinted from The Hampton Gazette, 1980
It was a cold December 24th long ago when my sister and I heard that the Elks were giving out dolls to all the little girls in town. We were living in Boonton, New Jersey. It was just a small city with a blacksmith shop where we loved to go after school. The smell of hay was such a treat to a city child. The main street had a five and ten, a drug store, a theater, and an A&P store where Mama did her shopping. The Elks home was about eight blocks from our house. We hurried along only to find that the line of kids was so long that they were standing outside.
“How long do you think we’ll have to wait till our turn comes?” I asked my sister.
“I don’t know. It will be a couple of hours I guess”, she said, “and I’m frozen already.”
We were not dressed warmly enough as there were ten of us in the family and my parents could not afford warm coats and shoes for each of us, so we wore each other’s hand-me-downs. My coat had no buttons on it so I pinned it the best I could. My shoes were worn thin and my feet were cold. But I didn’t mind it one bit just as long as I was going to get a new doll.
It was late in the afternoon dusk when our turn came to meet Santa and get our dolls. It was one of the happiest moments of my life when he handed me the package. I opened the box, and there was the most beautiful doll I had ever seen. She had soft, curly hair, her face was porcelain, and her beautiful blue eyes opened and closed. She was dressed in a lacy dress, her face was framed in a white bonnet, and on her feet she wore white socks, and a pair of patent leather shoes.
My sister and I were so delighted with ourselves that we forgot our frozen feet and ran all the way home to show the family what Santa had given to us. They couldn’t believe their eyes when we showed them our dolls and that night two happy and tired little girls went to bed.
And that is why, to this day, my granddaughters always get a Christmas doll.
Irene Becker, reprinted from The Hampton Gazette, 1980