Chalk Dolls, Bear Banks and Crazy Glue

By Carolyn Bertram © 1989

Issue: January, 1989

My first memory is when I was about three years old. I remember looking out the window watching Mom walk to the mailbox. She had given me her chalk doll to play with. The reason I remember it so well was because I was real careful like she told me to, but I dropped it and broke it.

When she scolded me for it I felt more sorry for her than for myself. She had valued it because somebody had given it to her, maybe Grandpa, I don't remember that part.

Years later while my niece and her friend played in my bedroom, they accidentally broke my bear bank that Grandpa and Grandma had given me. (I always think Grandpa gave it to me because he was the one who actually handed it to me.)

Anyway, I felt almost the same way I did that day I broke Mom's doll. I tried not to scold them too harshly because I knew they didn't realize the sentimental value.

Too bad Crazy Glue wasn't available when I was three. My bear has a big scar down its back but it survived. Now I know even if it had shattered completely, I would still have my memories of Grandpa and Grandma which are, after all, much more valuable than breakable toys.