I carefully counted pennies from my piggy bank and proudly left with my father to go shopping. We went to a small gift shop in Valois where I searched the aisles for what must have been at least an hour, up and down and back again – my young eyes lighting on every single item, my little hands reaching out to touch and handle everything that appealed to my eye, only to be carefully placed back on the shelf. Dad was extremely patient and he stood by, uncomplaining about the length of my mission.
After much indecision and uncertainty I carefully collected two little kewpie dolls from the shelf and proudly presented them for purchase. They were made of very thin plastic that would easily crumple with the merest pressure from over-eager fingers, a boy doll and a girl doll, about 3 inches tall, dressed in little felt clothes. These were my gift to my mother for Mother’s Day.
I found these two little dolls many years later, safely tucked away in a corner of my mother’s vanity, remembrances of a little girl.
Photo of kewpie doll courtesy Wikipedia