The Day I Buried My Dolls

I did not have childhood friends in my preschool days as children do these days with preschool programs, daycare and play dates from their tiny tots class from church.  I did not have next-door neighborhood kids to play with even though there was a large family across the road from us, but Grandma didn't let me play with them.

Having no siblings to grow up and play with, I lived in a make-believe world and my dolls and kittens were my playmates.  I had a lot of dolls--some given to me by my maternal Grandmother, Minnie Martin.  She may have told me they were my mother's dolls, and I had collected a few more because I always got a doll at Christmas.  My favorite doll was my "Bonny Braids" doll who originated from the marriage of Tess Truehart and Dick Tracy in the comics.  I loved my Bonny Braids doll--you could pull on the two little blonde braids at the top of her head and the hair got longer. 

My grandparents attended the First Baptist Church every Sunday--both services--morning and evening, and the mid-week prayer service on Wednesday night.  Grandpa was an elder and served faithfully for over 20 years as the Sunday School Superintendent.  My Grandma taught the women's class, and I attended Bible School every summer.  I had a very good "church friend" who was three years younger than me and as we grew older, she would either come home with me after Sunday morning church or I went home with her and played until it was time to go back to the Sunday night service.  It was more fun to go to her house because she lived a ways out of town, had a horse to ride, a barn loft to play in, and a little brother who loved to steal our diaries and try to read what we wrote.  Rita, my friend, and I played with dolls until we felt we were too old to be playing with dolls.  In fact, the guy she was sweet on at the time, Tommy, whom she later married, rode by on his tractor one day as we were playing with our dolls outside on a quilt, and we hid them behind our backs and waved to him like a couple of goofy teenagers.  We still laugh about that when we see each other.

After that incident, I felt it was probably time to put the dolls away--I was around 13 or 14 by then.   I believed it was important that dolls and pretend friends did not need a place in my life anymore, for around this time, I figure I was into part four of my nine lives.  It was time to put them in a box or something, but I had a better idea--I would just bury them instead.   I gathered the dolls, along with Bonny Braids, dressed them in their Sunday best, took them to the back yard, dug a large hole and buried them!  I've shared this story with my daughter, Tiffany, many times and she just could not believe what I did!  She thinks it was a terrible thing to do.  Reflecting back, I think I buried them so I would not be tempted to play with them any more. 

Well, here I am at almost 70, and have around 40 collectible Barbies, some Cabbage Patch Kids and over the years played with and sewed for Tiffany's Barbies.

Once I left home and went to the "big city" my Grandmother most likely would have given them away or have thrown them out; they would have been broken and tossed in a dump somewhere, so at least I know what became of them.  To this day I am really not sorry that I buried my dolls in the back yard that day, and I know exactly where they are!

P.S. I am searching for a Bonny Braids doll on ebay.