miss no name

I have a motley collection of Christmas tree decorations. Bedraggled or bedazzling, I love them equally, because they symbolize the experiences and relationships I hold dear.

This sweet ornament is the newest addition to my collection, hand-crafted by my friend, Stace Dumoski (aka my creative journaling instructor and member of my critique group). It’s a beautiful talisman of a favorite childhood memory–inspired, perhaps, by this passage:   

“Every little girl needs a doll,” my grandmother had said, so she’d made Miss No Name especially for me. She pulled a clothespin from her laundry basket and twisted one of Grandpa Fred’s pipe cleaners under its knobby top. “See, those are the arms,” Nana said, bending both ends toward me in a pretend hug. Then she stitched the embroidered edges of an old handkerchief into a poufy dress. Using a stubby pencil she kept on her telephone stand, she drew dark, round eyes and a donut-shaped nose, and then added a heart-shaped smear of lipstick for her mouth. “You draw the shoes,” she said, handing me the pencil. I scribbled dark lines on the ends of each wooden leg. 

My clothespin doll didn’t have a name, but she knew all my secrets and heard all my prayers.

Comfort and joy–that’s the message this clothespin angel speaks to me. As with Miss No Name, I’ll always hold a special place in my heart for her. And she’ll forever find a home on my tree.

Merry Christmas, everybody!