Christmas Day 1947, had come and gone but most of the shops in our village would remain closed for a few days more. On my way to visit the crib in the church, I passed the toy shop, its window lay in darkness and disarray...cleared in a hurry no doubt, on Christmas Eve. How different it had looked then in all its glory, with coloured lights and cotton wool snow, its shelves displaying boxes of games and wind-up toys, teddy bears and pop-up picture books and beautiful dolls with china faces and dresses trimmed with lace. Then something caught my eye and made me draw nearer the window, for there in a shadowy corner, among the crumpled tissue and empty boxes, sat a little ragdoll.

How lonely she looked with only the company of a big coloured spinning top and a rabbit with one eye missing. I remembered seeing her earlier and thinking how much I preferred her to those other dolls, with their rosy cheeks and golden curls. One couldn't hug a china doll, I thought, but the little ragdoll was made for such things, yet no one wanted her it seemed. She reminded me of myself somehow, a plain little soul, longing to be needed and loved. Each day while the shop remained closed, I came to the window to see her. I whispered to her how I too was lonely, living with my grandmother in her big old house, just beyond the village, with only Lizzy (the servant) for company. Grandmother had given me a home when my parents died in a accident, but I was forever reminded how grateful I should be, not to have gone to the Orphanage. I knew I was tolerated only because I was useful and, in my child's mind, I wondered would grandmother have loved me, had I been as pretty as those china dolls in the toy shop window.

I poured out my heart to the little ragdoll. She seemed to gaze out at me as if she understood. She became my friend. As the village began to come back to life again after the holiday and the shops re-opened for business, I made my way as usual to the toy shop, only to find it still closed and the window stripped bare! No sign of the little ragdoll, the spinning top or the rabbit with one eye missing! Although I had only a few pennies and a shilling piece, given from time to time in secret by dear Lizzy and hidden in an old shoe box beneath my bed, I somehow believed I could save enough to buy the little ragdoll...now she was gone! I sat on the door step outside the shop and wept bitter tears. So much had been taken from me already - surely this was a small thing to ask for. The afternoon light began to fade and it grew cold, but still I sat there, reluctant to return home. Somehow I never thought of grandmother's house as 'home'. It seemed so different from the homes of the other children at school, who spoke of loving parents, sisters and brothers, cosy fires, Christmas trees and presents, while I had only the vague memory of warm hugs and kisses and a mother's sweet face, to ease my loneliness.

I heard the bolt on the shop door being pulled back, and I turned and looked up into the kindly face of Mrs. Byrne, the toy shop owner. In between sobs I told her about the little ragdoll and taking my hand, she led me to the store at the back of the shop and showed me a box filled with unsold and damaged toys, ready to be sent to the local Orphanage. From this sad little cargo, she pulled out the little ragdoll, all crumpled and creased. 'Take her home, little girl,' she said, 'You deserve each other.' I wrapped the doll in my knitted scarf and tucked her inside my blue wool coat and held her close to my heart all the way home. We had both been saved from the Orphanage. We had been lonely and unloved. Now we had each other. I wondered what grandmother would say. She did not hold with giving toys for Christmas, settling instead for more practical things, like stout boots or hair ribbons and the like, but somehow, having found this little ragdoll I also found a courage and determination, and neither grandmother, nor all the Saints in Heaven would take this little doll from me now!

All this happened a long time ago, and today the little ragdoll sits on my dressing table and though faded and patched, is as dear to me still as the day I first saw her in the window of the Toy Shop, lonely and forlorn, among the crumpled tissue and empty boxes. ..waiting for me!