I held the covers over my head and turned the bright cell phone away from my sleeping husband. In a breathy voice I recorded my thoughts, watching to see if Jerry might stir. He’s a man who can sleep through branches scraping against the roof and our dog’s barking, but apparently not a whispering woman in his bed. Rats.
That killed any chance of keeping track of my thoughts while in bed. From now on I would have to leave the room to record the stories that come in the night.
I’d put in my order that day, for copies of the book, Jesus Talked to Me Today: True Stories of Children’s Encounters with Angels, Miracles, and God, which includes my story about a doll I carried in my pocket and how I learned about Jesus through her.
In the night I found I have another doll story to tell.
The other doll
My 8″ Betsy McCall doll was very talented, able to sit upright because of her bendable, lifelike knees. She was dressed in the TV Time outfit, a cute teal jumper and blue pants. I looked forward to coming home from first grade and posing her on the dresser in the garage, where we admired each other and shared our secrets.
One night I had a nightmare about her watching me from her perch as I teased her about the hinges in her knees. She smiled. Emboldened, I mocked their ugliness, and though her expression didn’t change, she lowered her chin and tilted to one side. Then, like a marshmallow melting on the end of a roasting stick, she slumped over.
My words had destroyed my friend
“The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit” (Proverbs 18:21 NIV).
My precious doll disappeared from my life. I don’t know what happened to her, but I have no memory of playing with her after that dream. The lesson endures, however, and I hope to never forget the image of how my words affected her. I don’t ever want someone damaged because of something I’ve said, even in jest.
by Kathy Sheldon Davis
I love this one. I have loved dolls all my life and I have a Betsy McCall in my now small collection and I loved it too that she could bend her knees. This is a sweet story and I am sorry about your dream but how well you have shown us how death and life are in the power of the tongue.