“Bye mom!’ I shouted as I ran out the front door in the bitterly cold January morning. I couldn’t wait to show my friends what I had gotten for Christmas. I clutched my treasured gift under my arm and broke into a full run. As I rounded the corner, the familiar sight of my school broke through the heavy snow and I could see my group of friends waiting by the climbing tires, just as we had planned. My heart pounded in my chest, partly due to the run but mostly due to excitement. I was the only one of my friends who didn’t have one, but that was all in the past now!
“Look what I got for Christmas!!” I gasped, trying to catch my breath and holding out my most prized possession. Her hair was red, tied with a white ribbon into 2 ponytails, her white cotton dress, covered with a yellow petty coat with matching shoes and socks. Her body soft and smelling like fresh baby powder just like our bathroom did on bath night. She was perfect. “Her name is Elizabeth!”
“She’s really cute, Cheryl.” one of my friends said. “I love her red…” but before she could finish her sentence, one of the other girls in our class, Susan came over. “What are we all talking about?” she asked looking at the doll in my hands. She pointed at Elizabeth and gasped with a look of horror on her face, “What on earth is THAT?” with a look of complete disgust on her face. “It’s my cabbage patch doll. I got her for Christmas. I named her Elizabeth.” I said. Susan burst into to hysterical laughter. Tears streaming down her face as she doubled over with laughter. “THAT” she said “Is NOT a cabbage patch doll.”
I knew that she was right. No my Elizabeth was not a real cabbage patch doll. My family couldn’t afford the real ones. But my parents knew how badly my sister and I wanted one so my mom spent countless hours making us ones and I loved her just the same. “It’s not even a good fake one.” Susan continued as she snatched Elizabeth out my hands. “Her clothes don’t even fit her properly, her hair is all rough, she doesn’t have a diaper, and look…” she pulled down my dolls underclothes to reveal the missing tell-tale signature. “Give her back!” I yelled. Before Susan could say anything else, the school bell rang signaling the start of the day. My friends all began to walk toward our classroom as Susan and I stood there staring at each other. “Give her back” I said again. Susan took one look at my doll, looked back up at me and said “And you wonder why no one wants to play at your house, your parents can’t even afford REAL toys”. She began to walk toward the classroom door, casually tossing Elizabeth into the snow.
I ran toward my doll, hot tears now streaming down my cold cheeks. I picked her up, dusting the fresh snow off of her. “I’m sorry Elizabeth. She is just mean. I love you even if you aren’t a real cabbage patch.” I told her as I hugged her tight, standing on the abandoned playground, cold, sobbing and completely heartbroken.