In The Heart or In The Head?

 "It is only in the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." --The Little Prince

I have been working my way through a collection of dolls to be posted for sale.  Of all the dolls in excellent condition; the valuable dolls... the "pretty" antique dolls in the collection I'm working on, there was this one.

She is only a China head. China head dolls had molded hair, painted eyes and lips and often homemade bodies. The heads could be bought at local stores, or ordered from Sears and Roebuck's catalog, sometimes for less than $1 and put on bodies that were made at home. They were popular from the Civil War to the 1900's where they fell out of fashion as girls wanted more elaborate and fancy dolls that could move and be posed easily; that were more proportionate and could sleep and had "real" hair. 

Sitting in the corner in an unassuming way, doing what she's done for perhaps as long as a century and a half, just sitting, as I photographed all the fancy, valuable and lovely dolls. I had forgotten about her - she sort of sunk into the couch pillows, observing through blue eyes partly worn off from much play.  There she stayed as I was working on the other dolls, until I decided to pack them all back up and finish my project tomorrow. "Oh yeah, this one. I forgot about this one."

She has a story too.

As you can see, her china shoulder plate was shattered at some point.

No doubt it elicited tears of disappointment and sadness. Creative hands tied it back on with fabric; fabric now grungy with age and handling by grubby hands, cross crossing it under her crude arms to hold it in place, covering the sharp broken edges from little hands that might get cut. Her crudely made, homemade gingham dress with unfinished seams that looks like it was sewn by a child's hands, learning the valuable skill of sewing, was pulled up and fastened over the whole mess so that she could again be played with.

At one point her arms were lost, or at least part of them. A kid glove was used to make partial new ones, but one porcelain hand was lost along the way and her dress sleeve pinned together to contain any sawdust that might escape. A gash on her eye gives evidence that she was most certainly someone's companion and perhaps slipped carelessly from the table where she was propped while someone ate lunch, or slid out of the relaxed grasp of a child falling asleep, landing on the floor. 

That "someone" is now gone, or she would be 130 years old today. But her doll lives on.

Every antique has a story. Every antique doll boasts of days long ago where childhood was idealized. Where lace and frills and fancy hats were all the rage. Fine German or French workmanship. Days when humanity lived in a society where stuff wasn't "disposable" and where "getting a doll" didn't mean getting 500 Barbie's in three years to be discarded at the next garage sale. Today, these century old relics are dolls proudly displayed on shelves by collectors "This is my collection. This one is in mint condition, all original and still in the original box." Other collectors stand and admire the 100 year old unfaded clothing, the high color in the cheeks that never saw the light of day because its story is one from the toy store shelf directly, to under the Christmas tree, to being opened and pushed aside for other toys, only to end up in the attic where it remained for years. Yes, it's a fine specimen. A miniature work of art from the days of fine craftsmanship in porcelain and toys.

But so is the doll that was shattered and held together with strips of cloth. Monetary value? None. "Oh, that's a shame" they say as they turn her over and see the back. "If the head was intact...that would be a nice doll, but she's not even worth it for the body."

But she has a story too. Aesthetically, she's not a fine example of an antique doll, but she has a place too.

She might just stay here. I already have another one very similar that I've had for years. Another China Head that isn't in the best of shape. Maybe they can sit together and swap stories.

As the author of the Velveteen Rabbit so poignantly put it, as the skin horse explained:

"Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”