cathyvv

All my life, I have never understood what was so wonderful about having a doll. I remember being extremely disappointed one Christmas when the 'best' present I got was a ballerina doll. A doll was so far down on my Christmas list, that it didn't even make it! A few days after Christmas the doll got a haircut and I got in big trouble for it. (How was I to know that it wouldn't grow back?)

Needless to say, that was the last doll I ever owned.

Fast forward to the very recent past

Saturday I volunteered at a garage sale for a local non-profit (no government funding involved) organization. This organization provides clothing, school supplies, toys, and many other items to children who are in foster care.

I didn't sleep well Friday night; when that happens I don't feel well the next day. I thought about staying home, but decided I'd made a commitment to help out and I was going to keep that commitment.

When the garage sale was just about over, we started packing up the unsold merchandise. As I was gathering up the baby clothes that was spread out on a tarp around me, a 7 year old girl arrived with her grandmother. The little girl walked over to me and gently took my hand in hers, then offered to help me pick up the baby clothes. I looked at her Grandmother to see if it was ok, and she gave me 'the nod'.

The little girl carried a well loved 18 inch doll with her. She told me the Doll was her sister. There were some "onesies" for a 3 month old and she said that her "sister" could use a new outfit. I agreed with her. A couple of minutes later, she and I also decided that one of the "onesies" would look good on her "sister" and she could have it as a reward for helping me. She also found a pair of baby socks and a little skirt for her "sister", which were quickly added to the reward.

No doubt about it, I'm a sucker for little kids.

Grandmother had walked out of our sight, into the building. When we had all the clothes picked up, my little friend and I walked hand in hand into the building. She told me her nick-name is Lee-Lee. My response was immediate, excited and happy. "Lee-Lee! That's what I called my older daughter when she was a little girl! I'll never forget you - you have the same name as her!" We were now great buddies.

Inside I chatted with her grandmother for a few minutes while Lee-Lee changed her dolls' clothes. Then I let Lee-Lee know I had to go back to work and she gave me a hug. While getting that sweet hug, I noticed the tracks of tears running down her cheeks. I figured she'd been to one too many garage sales and heard one too many "no's" when she wanted something. It happens.

A few minutes later Lee-Lee and her Grandmother came back outside. Lee-Lee gave me another big hug and told me she'd been crying. I hugged her back and asked why she'd been crying. She told me she missed her sister, and she couldn't see her anymore.

The Grandmother quietly told me that Lee-Lee was one of 4 children, and the other three kids, including her beloved younger sister, were in foster care. Something had happened with their mother and social services removed the kids from her home. Lee-Lee went to her Grandmother, but the other 3 had a different father and he wouldn't let them go with her to their Grandmother.

Oh, how I wished there was a way that I could carry the pain, for even one day, for that grieving child! All I could do was wrap her in my arms for a brief moment and tell her I'd pray that she'd be able to see her sister very soon.

Lee-Lee is heartbroken. The doll, a toy that she and he sister played with together, has become a way for Lee-Lee to carry her sister with her wherever she goes.

I again told Lee-Lee that I would pray that she would see her sister soon, and I reminded her that I will NEVER forget her.

She thinks that I won't forget her because she shares a nick name with my daughter. But the real reason I won't forget her is that she, her doll and her raw grief are unforgettable.

And I thank God that I kept my commitment. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have met Lee-Lee.