My Paper Doll

Oh, you beautiful doll
You great big beautiful doll,
Let me put my arms about you,
I could never live without you.
Oh, you beautiful doll
You great big beautiful doll,
If you'd ever leave me how my heart would ache,
I want to hug you but I fear you'll break,
Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh, you beautiful doll!

While going through old books this afternoon during a reorganization of our family room, I came across a folder of paper dolls from my childhood days. Among them I found this sweet, red-haired baby with brown eyes and a cherub's face. I remembered how much I had loved playing with her, evident by the tears and tape across her little body.

And then it struck me how much she looked like my own red-haired, brown-eyed baby girl of many years ago. Interesting how things in life repeat themselves in strange and wonderful ways if we are observant enough to take note. But as much as I delighted in this paper baby as a little girl myself, she couldn't compare to the joy I experienced from the real thing in the years ahead.

When my daughter was little, my mother used to call her "my little paper doll." With her easy smile and delicate ways, it seemed a fitting description for the tiny miss that she used to be. She's all grown up now; a young lady that long ago surpassed the love I held for my paper toys. And though I'm now too old for dolls, I will never outgrown my love for the real live, red-haired baby I once held in my arms, and forever hold in my heart.