Bay’s Story Time – Love for Libby

“Well hi there, Libby,” Angela greeted the porcelain doll that stood to the left of the doorway in her doll room, “Knock anyone else over? Or have you decided I give you enough attention?”
A laugh escaped as the doll rocked slightly. Logically, she figured it was probably the breeze she’d created walking past that had moved the doll, but a part of her knew better than to think that.

“I wish you could tell me your story, Libs,” Angela continued to talk as she straightened a few dolls on one of the large shelves and repositioned them slightly, her gaze flicking to the porcelain doll again, her perfectly coiffed blonde hair and silky wedding gown pristine, “I wonder what you’d say to me. Were you loved before? Did you ever have a little girl carefully hold you and pretend she was marrying you to her teddy bear? Or did you sit forever on a shelf untouched by anyone, lonely and cold?”
As if in answer, one of the smaller dolls that stood around Libby toppled over, making Angela turn all the way around.
“I thought we talked about knocking others over to get attention,” She scolded the larger doll as she picked up the toppled one and set her back on the little shelf, then slipped Libby off her stand, cradling her in one arm, “Come on, let’s have some quality time. I bet you were never touched once you were put on a shelf.”
Angela headed back out of the doll room, closing the door behind her as she stepped into the hallway, heading for her bedroom and the balcony outside, sinking into the rocking chair that sat out in the sunshine.
“I bet you were never held or cuddled when you were new. So now, you act out because you’re lonely and sad and you don’t know another way to communicate with me,” Angela spoke softly, one finger tracing the doll’s delicate cheek and lips, “Porcelain lips that don’t open, don’t allow you to ask to be held or played with. Must be like being trapped in a prison. Don’t worry, Libby. You’ve got a home here now where you’ll have the care and attention you deserve. Just wait one more week.”

“Mom, can I take Libby with me to play with Tonya and Tasha?” Kyla called across the hall one morning the following week, already hugging the doll to her chest protectively as she padded into her mother’s bedroom.
“Sure,” Angela smiled, sitting down on the edge of the bed and patting the spot beside her for the twelve-year-old to sit down, “But first, let me tell you about Libby. She needs lots of attention. She needs to be held and played with. Or else she starts to get moody, sort of like you.”
“She will?” Kyla asked, hugging the doll a little tighter, “I’ll take good care of her, I promise. But she just looks so lonely.”
“Just watch she doesn’t start throwing things or knocking the other dolls over,” Angela cautioned with a smile, “If she does, remind her that’s bad behavior and give her something more constructive to do. Like a ball to bounce or something that she can knock over without harming anything. A game of dominoes or a block castle maybe.”
“Okay,” The twelve year old laughed, getting up again with Libby still wrapped in her embrace, “I’ll make sure she’s nice to the others. I promise.”
Angela watched her daughter leave the room, catching sight of the twinkle in the porcelain doll’s eyes over Kyla’s shoulder.
“See, Libby? I told you things would change. She loves you already,” Angela whispered, winking at the doll as Kyla disappeared around the corner.
As if on cue, the water bottle on the nightstand fell over, the clear plastic magnifying two words on the page of the book it had landed on.
“Thank you.”

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