But then it hit me! My most FAVORITEST toys from my Childhood years, American Girl Dolls, were sitting up in my closet only recently being given back to my care from my Mom who has been keeping close tabs on them since I moved out of her house.
I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world to own these American Girl Dolls. I had 3 and they went EVERYWHERE with me. We had matching outfits and accessories. I would read to them and sleep with them. We would camp out together in our matching sleeping bags. We would even convine for meetings with my cousins and their American Girl Dolls.
When my Mom moved here it was time for me to take responsibility of my own childhood toys and I brought them home with me. Immediately I opened up their cases and redressed them, brushed their hair, and sorted through all the clothes and accessories I had for my friends. Something kinda funny struck me though as I took a look at the 3 dolls I just HAD TO HAVE when I was younger...
The first American Girl Doll I recieved, who was hand selected by myself, was named Molly. I choose her specifically for her name and the fact that she wore glasses. The perfect combination of my Mom and Myself. My third doll was a "create your own." Most little girls I am sure "created" their dolls to look just like them, I however created mine with red hair to look like my mom and named her the first "M" name I could think of... Marissa. As a young girl and even now I wanted to be just like my mom. She is my Hero!
My second doll was Addy, an African-American slave girl from Mississippi. As I stared at her at her for the first time in 10 years it dawned on me that from even in my early childhood years I have always wanted to adopt an African little girl. That passion and desire is still very strong in my heart and I know one day it will happen. So strange the things that you do as a child that bring meaning to your adulthood dreams.
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