Wendy McPhee

When I was 10 in 1956 my birthday and Christmas wish was for a Madame Alexander Doll. This was before Barbie Dolls. The Madame Alexander doll was more akin to the American Girl Doll of today, in that she had no figure to speak of, and she had long lustrous hair which I greatly admired. She was also quite expensive, unlike Barbie. And unlike the American Girl Doll, she never dressed in plebeian outfits like shorts and T-shirts. She wore elegant gowns of satin that I hoped I, too, would wear some day.

I knew my parents were struggling financially and could never afford such a gift. However, my well-to-do Great Aunt Ruth was coming to visit. She was in her 60s, a maiden lady, with long white hair that she kept in a bun. Although she was a puritanical woman who once expressed that spending money on gift wrapping was a needless extravagance, she surprised us by inviting my brother and me to go into New York on the train for a visit to F.A.O. Schwartz on Fifth Avenue to pick out any toy we wanted.

In that paradise, confronted by an array of Madame Alexander dolls, all equally desirable, I was suddenly unable to decide, and fearful I would be scolded for my expensive choice.

“Take your time,” Aunt Ruth urged me. “Get the one you like best.” Then she actually smiled.

Feeling more confident, I settled on a dark-haired beauty. What a joy it was to finally hold the doll in my arms! 

My enthusiasm for dolls waned in my teenage years, and Madame Alexander was eventually lost or given away.  However the realization that my stern Aunt Ruth took pleasure in giving us children special presents stayed with me. The happiness we shared has made me want to replicate her generosity, and I love to see the delight in my grandchildren’s faces when I do.