The Worry Dolls
When my wife was a child, she went through a phase of anxiety. Her mother gave her a gift, a basket of little worry dolls.
The tiny basket can fit in the palm of your hand, and the little dolls are made of string.
Together, mother and daughter would lay in bed, share their concerns, and hold the worry dolls to make all of the worries go away. My wife has kept this beautiful gift for decades.
Today, my dog tried to eat the worry dolls.
My toddler rushed to my leg to pull me away from my chair at the kitchen table–to pull me away from my computer reading post-Election news–so I could stop the dog from destroying Mommy’s worry dolls.
The dog’s stomach has digested the basket’s cover, but all of the worry dolls are safe. The worry dolls are no longer resting in their basket, covered. They are looking up at the sky.
An observant, caring child saved them.
I don’t know what this means; I just felt it was important to share with you.
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