The Doll's Cradle

When I was just a tiny little girl, not quite four years old yet, my baby brother was born and my mother went away. I was too little to know why she went away. I suppose I thought that was just what happened when babies were born. Aunts came to take care of baby Joe and me. Aunt Martha came at first because she was a nurse and knew what to do. Then Aunt Louise came and stayed for a long time.

Mother went to live at a place called the Owen Institute. It was on the other side of Huntington on the top of a big hill. I almost sort of remember going there – you know it is when you almost remember things? We went to the Institute and to the Institute’s Office downtown all during my childhood so I don’t really know what I remember from the time Mother was gone and what I remember from those later visits.

What I do remember very clearly is that my Mother made things for me while she was gone. My favorite thing was my doll’s cradle.

She made every part of it in the workshop at the Institute. She drew the design and measured the wood and cut it out. She sanded it smooth and joined it together. She painted it with coats of thick white enamel. She drew the design of the little girl, cut out a stencil of it, and stenciled it on to each end of the cradle.

When we lived on Spring Valley Drive, the cradle sat in my little dormer with my little rocking chair and my baby carriage and my mother’s old doll’s dresser.

It was just the right size for my favorite toy when I was a tiny little girl, my Beauregard calf.
I’ll tell you about Beauregard another time.