I have five glass dolls. (Technically six, but one is shared with my sister.) I love my dolls. I collect them no matter how torn, scarred, broken and lifeless.
First of all was Annie. She used to be Mom’s, and she came from Germany. Annie has bare feet and an old-fashioned dress. She has messed up hair, and a pale face, but I love her best of all.
Next I got Jackie. She has a scarred face, a missing button, missing shoes and white legs. Her eyelashes are falling off, and her curls are tangles. She is pretty in her very own way and I love her.
Next comes The Nameless Princess, she never received a name. At first glance she truly is a Princess. She has painted on white high heels, and a beautiful blue ball gown. However, her eyelashes have fallen off, she has scratched arms underneath the ball gown. Her lips are faded, her curls mangled (at one point her hair fell off and we had to glue it back on.) She is a Princess in my eyes.
Amelia is my second to last doll. She looks like an Easter doll. She wears an Easter blue dress with a matching bonnet. Her shoes are both their, but one is missing a bottom. Her dress has two brown stains and her wild hair is tamed by a braid. She is perhaps the prettiest doll.
Holly is my last doll. She is a Christmas doll, with red velvet and warm head-gear. Her eyelashes are whole, her dress still soft. But her garland has fallen off (she used to hold a gold, green and red garland.) Her white shawl is stained with color, her hair is knotted and wild, her red lips fading in the center. She is a festive doll, always cheery.
I hope to collect more dolls somewhere along the line. I love them, no matter what they look like. I will accept them broken and lifeless, scarred and torn. I have always loved dolls, ever sense I had my first baby doll!