Sep 15, 2006

Amy the Priceless Porcilian Doll

This one goes with the doll I put together and am going to sell... I need all the comments I can get cause it's got to be quality...

Amy stood tall shiny cardboard box surrounding her. Through the foggy plastic she could see children as they ran up and down the isles shouting to their parents, “Can I have that Mommy?” or “Do you think Santa will bring me one of these?”
It was mostly girls down this aisle. Barbie dolls and realistic baby dolls that cried lined the lower shelves other dolls were dressed in the latest fashion while still other areas were filled with play make up and kitchen supplies. Amy could see very little of these. Mostly she could see the shelf across from her with stuffed animals and dress up clothes. She smiled to herself. She was high up because like the other dolls on her shelf, she was breakable.
“Not for children under 3”, her label read. Christmas time came once a year, and well she knew. Last year she had been in the back of the shelf and no one had looked at her much then, but even though she was now in the front, still no one gave her a glance. She knew she must be beautiful. Her skin was milky white and her lips were crimson red. Her brown curly hair was tied back and her brown eyes were hidden behind tiny spectacles. She was a school doll. She carried a bundle of books hung from her hand and her skirt was made of red and black plaid. Yes, she knew she was beautiful when a woman’s hands reached up for the box with a small gasp of delight.
“Isn’t she pretty?” she exclaimed, showing Amy to her daughter. “She’d go great with your collection, don’t you think?”
“I guess she’s alright, Mom,” the adolescent girl replied. “But she doesn’t really belong in my collection. Mine are one of a kind and beautiful. Not plain and simple.”
Amy’s heart dropped. “Plain and simple?” She didn’t here the rest of the conversation as she was placed back up on the shelf. “Plain? Simple?” It couldn’t be true. She was a pretty, elegant girl’s doll; at least that’s what the box said. Could the box be wrong?
Christmas came and went and all the left over toys were soon marked down. Amy was going for less than half her price since she had been there for two years now. In the midst of the rush, a pair of ruff hands suddenly grabbed her and took her home. Amy waited with anticipation. Someone had thought she was beautiful and now a little girl was going to wrap her arms around her and… The box grew dark as she was placed in a closet. Months passed and she wondered why they had bought her only to hide her away.
“Plain. And Simple.”
At last, one warm afternoon, the closet door was opened and a variety of toys were sifted though and Amy was a last chosen. The woman hastily wrapped her and headed out the door. An hour and a half later and Amy could hear the voices of lots of children. Then the woman was talking to another woman.
“Mary, I’m so glad you made it.”
“Can you believe I almost forgot?” The woman laughed. “It’s a good thing I had this laying around. I found it after Christmas dirt cheep. I thought maybe I’d fix up the shabby thing but I never had time and in the end it hardly seemed worth it.”
The other woman laughed. “And you know Kristy. It doesn’t matter what you get her as long as there is something on the table with your name on it.”
Amy heard the women’s voices fade away as she sat on the table with the dozens of other gifts.
“Shabby?” “Hardly seemed worth it?”
Yes, of course Amy knew she was plain and simple, but she hadn’t realized she was shabby and worthless. But her fears were confirmed as her box was opened, sneered at, then good naturedly laughed at, and then promptly tossed aside.
After a few months the little girl pulled her out of the box and held her out to her little sister as a bribe for the other toy she wanted. Missy, the little sister, grabbed at Amy greedily. Missy was just under three and soon Amy knew why under three year olds weren’t supposed to play with her. But Missy kept her and years went by. Missy used her to play tea with her flashy Barbies and fluffy teddy bears. When she wasn’t playing tea, Amy was tossed in the toy box with the rest of the toys. Her delicate porcelain skin had been so close to shattering so many times she had lost count. Missy grew older and lost interest in playing tea. She hardly ever touched her toys now and it had been ages since Amy had felt fresh air. At last one day the toy box open once again.
“I want to sell what I can,” came Missy’s now much older voice from the other side of the room. So all the toys were boxed up and taken outside where everything was for sell. People came and went, taking this and taking that. Every now and again a little girl would pick Amy up long enough for a glance before promptly plopping her back down.
“Simple, plain, shabby, not worth much.”
It didn’t surprise Amy when she wasn’t chosen. At least she knew that when is was all over, she could go back to the familiar box where no one would see her and know what a shabby, plain thing she was.
But when the day was done she wasn’t placed back in the box. Instead, she was taken with the rest of the “junk” to the charity store down town. Ruff hands unloaded her and placed her in a specific pile with a few other porcelain dolls who’s paint was chipped or who’s eyes were melted. They frightened Amy but worse, she knew she must be like them.
Weeks past. She lay there with the other dolls wondering what would happen to her now. Every now and again a little girl would come and choose one of the prettier dolls in the pile, but she was always left alone.
Then one day, she came. She picked Amy up with tender hands and gently looked her over. Then she looked through the rest of the dolls.
“Most of them are pretty enough,” she said to the kind looking man behind her, “but she’s Perfect.”
Amy was stunned. “Perfect?” Amy felt like telling her that she wasn’t perfect, that she wasn’t even pretty, and with all that laying around for months she had felt her left arm slowly loosening.
“Let’s get her then,” the man replied with a smile and before Amy knew it, they were headed home. The woman took off her tattered school dress and wiped the dust from her eyes. Amy’s glasses were long since gone, missing in the bottom of the toy box. How she wished she had them now, though, so she could show the woman how pretty she had once been. But now she stood here, bare before her, and she felt more plain, shabby, simple and worthless than ever. Then she felt the damp clothe cleaning her cheeks and her hands. She watched in awe as a lovely red riding gown was placed upon her skin. Her neck seam where Missy had torn her years ago, was mended so that her head stood up straight once again. Her hair was loosed and a pink and red riding hat was placed on her shiny locks. Amy was beginning to feel strange, almost pretty when suddenly her arm fell off.
‘That’s it.’ She thought as the woman picked it up in dismay. ‘She’ll take back the dress and toss me out now for sure.’ Instead, she soon found herself wrapped in a paper bag traveling in the basket of a bike down a road, still wearing the dress. The kind man’s hands pulled her out and looked critically at her arm. Then carefully he did what he could and soon she had her arm again.
A week later, Amy was taken to be sold at the lady’s tiny shop. There she sat on a shelf again. She dreaded the rejection, the abuse she had once felt. Other items in the shop seemed so much nicer than she. She would never be sold. But at last a woman brought her to the counter.
“Oh, you found our little riding girl.” the familiar voice of the lady who’s voice was a gentel as her hands, exclaimed.
“Amy?” the woman responded. “What a pretty name for such a gorgeous doll!I collect dolls. I have an eye for them. I only bother with the most unique and beautiful. She’s hand made isn’t she? Look at those features and that hair.”
The lady took Amy in her hands and looked at her. “I really don’t know where she’s been. The dress is hand made just for her though. I found her and I knew she was special.”
“That she is.” The woman smiled. “I keep my dolls well. My display case is extensive, but I think she’s prefect for it.”
The lady placed another doll on the table, placing Amy carefully behind it. “I think this one will do much better for your collection Ma’am.”
Amy was dismayed. Apparently she wasn’t pretty enough. The other woman was somewhat taken aback as well, but quickly left the store once she knew she could not have Amy. Once the woman left, the lady lifted Amy up and spoke straight to her. “You need a place where they will see your beauty and know your worth. Not just some display case where flashy beauty is only as good as the clothes the dolls wear.”
Just then, door opened and a young woman and her mother walked in. After browsing around a bit, the girl noticed the lady smoothing out Amy’s hair. She watched in delight and then whispered something to her mother. The mother shrugged and the girl approached the Lady. “Excuse me Ma’am, but how much is the doll for sell?”
The lady quoted her a price that made Amy blush, but the girl took out her money and bought her. All the way home, the girl held Amy gently in her arms, caressing her curly locks. When they reached their home, she was placed on the girls dresser drawer where she stayed for many years. When other girls would come to visit they would stop and admire. Amy heard the words “Beautiful.”, “Stunning”, and “She must be worth a fortune!” Years later she was packed into a box and she waited till sun light hit her face when she was given to the girl’s daughter as a gift that her grandmother had given to her mother. And Amy knew then that she was not only beautiful, but she was priceless.


skinny minny said...

wonderful story! flows really well.
sending direct to you the spelling issues but otherwise it is great!

Anonymous said...

K Gayle is laughing at me cause i'm crying. I love it! Only problem spelling and puctuation.
K wiping away the tears now