Today’s Truth
You will go out with joy, and be led out in peace. The mountains and the hills will break out into sounds of joy before you. And all the trees of the field will clap their hands.
Isaiah 55:12
Friend to Fiend
When I was a little girl, I used to love pretending to be a bride. I’d wrap a sheet around my body, drape a towel over my head, and hold a bouquet of plastic flowers to my chest. Then I would start at one end of our ranch-style house’s hallway and make my saunter down the “aisle.” In my little mind, all eyes were on me, as my sheet became a pearl studded wedding gown, my towel a lace veil, and the bouquet a spray of white roses.
My Uncle Ernest understood the longings of little girls to be a bride, so for Christmas one year, he gave me a two-foot doll dressed in full bridal regalia. Along with her white wedding gown and netlike veil, she had short cropped, curly brown hair that felt as real as my own, soft plump skin that squished when I squeezed her, and moveable eyelids lined with thick black lashes. Her eyes opened and closed with her changing positions so that when she lay in her box, she resembled Sleeping Beauty just waiting to be kissed. Her perfectly shaped lips were small and dainty, and her crystal blue eyes appeared strangely real.
But there was one problem with this delightful gift. Because she was so expensive, my mother wouldn’t allow me to play with her.
“You’ll have to wait until you are older,” she explained. “She’s too nice of a doll to play with. You might tear her gown. We’ll just keep her in the box until you’re old enough to know how to take care of her.”
So the bride doll remained in her box, safely stowed away in the bottom dresser drawer.
Day after day, I slowly opened the drawer and stole a peek at the doll as she lay sleeping inside the drawer like a treasure in a safety deposit box. Sometimes I removed the box lid and gently stroked her pink skin, but I knew if I ever took her out of the box and played with her, I would be in big trouble. As time passed, I forgot about the bride doll in the drawer, and today, I don’t even know what became of her.