Speak Up reading - 140

Article #140 My Doll
When I was an infant, I got a rag doll. It was a very plain, little doll, and it wore a
clown outfit and a clown's hat. I used to take that doll to bed with me every night. I
couldn't go to bed without my doll. My mother used to pretend that the doll was
talking to me. She would make the doll dance and sing songs. I would talk to the
doll. My mother would answer for the doll, but I was a baby, and I thought that the
doll was actually talking to me. That doll was my best friend. I took her
everywhere. One time I took her to a store with me, and I left her on a shelf in the
store. We were halfway home when I realized that I didn't have my doll with me. I
was very upset. My mother and I rushed back to the store. My doll was still there. I
was so relieved. I hugged my doll, and I promised myself that I would never leave
her anywhere again. I couldn't imagine life without that doll. Through the years,
the doll became less important in my life. I had other things to do, but the doll still
sat on my bed during the day, and I still took it to bed at night. I gave that doll a lot
of love when I was little. In fact, I loved the doll so much that she looks tattered and
torn now. There are parts of her face and hands that are almost worn away. I had a
lot of other toys when I was little, but none of them were ever so important as that
doll. I don't play with toys anymore, but that doll is still in my room. She sits in a
special chair in the corner.
I'll always have that doll. No matter how worn out she is, I'll always keep her and
cherish her as a part of my early childhood.