The China Doll

I’ve always loved the Christmas season and this year promised to be very special. My new bride, Amy, and I left Pennsylvania in the Spring of 1882 and traveled by Conestoga wagon to Independence, Missouri to start our new life together. The trip itself was long and arduous, but peaceful enough. Back East, gee, I’m starting to sound like a Westerner already. Back East we had heard stories of wagon trains being wiped out by savage Indians, but the Lord was with us and we never saw one savage.1

Upon arriving in Independence I open my first store. I prided myself on the quality of goods I carried. Nothing but the best bolt of cloths, china, cooking pots and, at my wife’s insistence, the latest in women’s fashions. In addition, I also carried a fine selection of toys for the children. It was the finest store in town, if I do say so myself, and it bore my name, Ritter’s Mercantile. 2

The only thing I was prouder of was the fact that my bride was now with child. I was to be a father by next Spring! Life was looking grand, so it’s no wonder I went about my business with a gay and cavalier attitude. Cheerfully greeting my customers and singing Carols all day long. It was the week before Christmas and business was bustling.3

The morning rush was over and I was attending to the final details of my window display. I had toy boats, trains, the ever popular sled as well as a bat and ball for the boys. For the girls, I had a vast array of dolls. Everything from the standard rag doll to the jewel of the display, a beautiful china doll all the way from England.4

Finished, I went outside to admire my handy work, that’s when I first saw her. A little moppet of no more than four. Mousy brown hair peeking out from under her sun faded bonnet. Her brown eyes, wide as saucers, firmly affixed to the china doll in my window. I felt a bit sorry for her as I knew there was no way her parents could afford that beauty. There was only one family in all of Independence, the Patterson’s, that could afford her. George Patterson owned the largest bank in town and also happened to have three young daughters. When I ordered the doll, it was with him in mind. I knew he would buy it for one of his girls.5

Freezing in the cold winter air, I started back inside when I felt a plucking at my sleeve. “Excuse me, Sir,” the moppet said. “How much for the pretty doll?”6

“That is a very expensive doll, Miss. She costs five dollars,” I said, expecting she would be disappointed and leave. Instead, she dug deep into the pocket of her patched broadcloth coat, pulled out a few coins and held them out to me.7

“Is this five dollars, Sir?”8

A quick count told me she had less than a dollar, not even enough for the cheapest rag doll. I patted her on the head and said, “Sorry. Maybe Santa will bring her for you on Christmas.”9

I went back inside kicking myself. I shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up about Santa bring her the doll, but what else could I have said? Every day after that I would see the little tyke standing outside my window, staring at the china doll with those big, brown eyes. I suppose she was hoping to see Santa buy it for her, which of course he never did. 10

George Patterson wasn’t coming by to purchase it either and I was beginning to worry. A five dollar doll was too expensive an item not to sell and Christmas was only two days away. At least the other toys were selling.11

I was in the back of the store counting sacks of flour when the jingle of the bell above the front door alerted me to a new customer entering. Wiping my hands on my apron, I went to greet whoever it was. Maybe it would be George Patterson coming for the doll! It wasn’t, but I wasn’t disappointed either. It was my lovely bride bringing me my lunch.12

“Brrrr! That wind sure does cut through a person,” Amy said as she stomped the snow off of her shoes. 13

I took the basket from her and led her to the stove. “Let me get you a chair while you warm yourself. Can’t have you catching a cold. Not in your condition.”14

“Oh, Samuel, you worry too much. I’m fine, or should I say we’re fine?” she smiled, holding her hands over her stomach.15

I placed a quick kiss on her wind redden cheek. “I’m not taking any chances. Now, sit and warm yourself.”16

Rubbing her hands in front of the hot stove, “I don’t think I’ll ever get use to the winters here. The wind blows constantly and chills you right to the bone. I wonder how that little girl stands it?”17

“Little girl?” I asked, puzzled at who she was referring to.18

“Yes, the one that’s been standing in front of your window everyday for a week now? The poor little thing must be half frozen.”19

The girl had become such a fixture with her daily visits, I had forgotten she was even there. “Well, if she gets cold enough she can always go home. I wonder who she belongs to?”20

“She’s one of the Baxter Brood. At least that’s what someone told me.”21

“Baxter brood?”22

“There are ten in all. Their father died last year from an illness. With all the medical bills, the mother had to sell the farm and move into town. From what I hear, she takes in laundry and barely makes enough to keep food on the table. Poor woman.”23

Before I could say anything, the bell tinkled and the little girl came in. She stood quietly next to the door, her hands clasped together in front of her. Amy invited her to come sit with her by the stove. 24

“No thank you, Ma’am,” she replied shyly.25

I went over to her and asked, “What can I do for you today?”26

“How much for the pretty doll in the window, Sir?”27

“She’s still five dollars.”28

The disappointed look on her dirty little face nearly broke my heart. Her mother obviously wouldn’t be able to buy her that doll, or anything else for that matter, for Christmas. Like most people in town, a proud lot, her mother probably wouldn’t accept any charity, but I wanted to do something for this sweet child. I asked her how much money she had. She wiped her runny pug nose on her sleeve, then pulled ninety five cents from her pocket.29

The hopeful look she gave me that somehow her pittance had magically become five dollars was too much. I couldn’t sell her the china doll for ninety five cents, but I could let her have one of the rag dolls. I would be taking a loss, but what the heck. It was Christmas after all.30

Even though she was disappointed not to get the doll she had wanted, she was still happy when she left with the rag doll carefully cradled in her arms. Amy stood up, walked over to me and kissed me. “That was a nice thing you did. If she’s anything like me when I was her age, she won’t let that doll out of her sight for a minute.” 31

The next day, Christmas Eve, I was still feeling good about my little act of Christmas kindness as I walked the short distance from our rented house to the store. The street was nearly deserted in the brisk early morning, so it wasn’t hard to see the little girl walking toward me.32

“Merry Christmas!” I said to her.33

“Merry Christmas, Sir”34

“Where’s your dolly? Do you have her under your coat to keep her warm?”35

“No, Sir. I don’t have her anymore.”36

“You don’t?” I asked. I was starting to get mad. I go out of my way to be nice to the little tyke and she repays me by losing the doll after only one day!37

“No, Sir. I gave her to Betty.”38

Bewildered, I demanded, “Who is Betty?” 39

“Betty is my best friend.”40

“So you gave her the doll? Why? I thought you wanted her?”41

“No, Sir. The doll was always for Betty. She doesn’t have anybody in the whole world. Her folks were killed in a fire and I wanted her to have someone to talk to when I’m not with her. Merry Christmas, Sir!”42

I was stunned and ashamed of myself. All day at the store I kept thinking how this little girl, who has next to nothing to call her own, wanted nothing for herself. Her only thoughts were for her friend. When I sold her the doll at cost, I thought I was being generous to someone less fortunate than me. I was never so wrong.43

At five o’clock I began to close up for the day. Amy would have a special dinner ready, but I was still too miserable to enjoy it. I had just flipped the Open sign to Closed when George Patterson pounded on the door.44

“Glad I caught you Ritter. Its been a very hectic week at the bank and I totally forgot to come by for that china doll I saw in your window. I see it’s still there so I guess I’m not too late.”45

The thought of one of his snotty little brats owning that doll suddenly became repugnant to me. “Sorry, George, but she has been sold. As a matter of fact, I was just going to wrap her up. Is there anything else you might want instead?”46

Once I got rid of George, I locked the door and pulled the blinds. Carefully, I wrapped the china doll with the best wrapping paper I sold. Then I remembered Amy saying there were ten in the Baxter Brood. Hurriedly, I wrapped nine more presents and placed them carefully in a sack. 47

Then I recalled how Amy said Mrs. Baxter could barely keep food on the table, so I threw in a ham, beans, carrots, a couple cans of cranberry sauce and a fist full of candy. The snow was falling heavily as I walked toward the Baxter house. I had never been there before, but I did recall seeing the sign for her laundry business.48

The streets were dark and empty as everyone was snug in their homes enjoying their Christmas Eve dinners. Mine would have to wait. I had this one errand to preform first. The Baxter home was little more than a rundown shanty, but the laughter and the warm glow shining through the window bespoke of a family that had everything they needed, each other. 49

I didn’t want to intrude, or take the risk Mrs. Baxter would refuse my gifts, so I set the sack down in front of the door. I knocked on the door and then ran around the corner so as not to be seen. The door opened and Mrs. Baxter stepped out into the cold night air wrapping a shawl around her thin shoulders. Her children, pushing and shoving each other were right behind her to see who it was at their door.50

The kids squealed in delight when they saw the presents in the sack. Mrs. Baxter shushed them back inside, took one more look around to see who had left the sack, then dragged it inside. I stood there for a few minutes, trying to rub the cold out of my arms when I heard a child’s gleeful shout, “Mommy! It’s the china doll I wanted for Betty!”51

Then I heard Mrs. Baxter say, “Apparently Santa wanted you to have her, Sara. You promise to take good care of her?”52

“Oh, yes, Mommy! I’ll take very good care of her. The nice man at the store said Santa might bring her, but how did Santa know?’53

I could see Mrs. Baxter looking out the window as she answered. “Santa has his ways and God Bless him.”54

The End