Dolls play a huge part of my memories of childhood Christmases.
While I could only find documentation of 3 Christmases,
I barely remember one in which a doll was NOT underneath the tree for me.
Madam Alexander dolls, in particular, were my favorites.
Their faces held such appeal.
Luckily, one survived and now represents all the others in absentia.
She held up better than I did, that's for sure.
Of course, I haven't spent much of life in a trunk in the basement.
Maybe that would have helped.
Too late now!
And the bad bangs that also were part of every Christmas...
lets not talk about it.
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