Better Than a Chatty Cathy

I was a doll sort of girl when I was little. I don’t remember a time that I didn’t have a doll, and when I had them, I took them everywhere. Some of my favorites were Raggedy Ann and Tiny Tears. My Tiny Tears doll did come with a bed as I remember. Fickle as children are, though, I replaced her the Christmas of first grade with Chatty Cathy. Cathy was eighteen inches long, and she had a string you could pull so she could talk! How cool was that?

During that first grade winter, the little girls who lived two doors down, Pat and Jean, were blessed by a little sister. They soon tired of walking her up and down the street in her stroller that spring so, wonder of wonders, they gave the task to me. I was thrilled, but the baby, Linda, lived at their house, so Cathy still got a lot of my attention.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I found out in July of that year, that there was to be a baby in our house. I’m sure all the adults in our neighborhood knew it, but I wasn’t particularly quick about such matters, and I ran down the street announcing things to the world.

The new baby was a sister, born on Friday, September 21. She was a preemie and didn’t come home right away. Of course, nobody came home right away in those days. And, being seven, I couldn’t go see her. But my dad explained her to me by telling me that she was just the size of my Chatty Cathy. And sure enough, she was.

As my sister got older, she replaced Cathy in my affections. I even took her for a ride in Cathy’s doll carriage. As I watched her grow, I took pleasure in her accomplishments. She danced in the Nutcracker for several years. She worked in the city engineer’s office. My husband worked with her in that capacity. My sister is about five foot two, and my husband said it was nice to tell the men with whom he worked that that “girl” out there in her hard hat, the one who was giving orders to big, burly men, was his sister-in-law.  She believes in Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior and works hard at training up her children in the way that they should go.

Sisters part ways sometimes, but my little sister and I have always been close, and I am  thankful to have a friend in a sibling. Some people are not so fortunate. As I have watched her mature, I have found that I am just as pleased with who she is as I was when she first came home. Back then, the best I could imagine was the baby down the road or Chatty Cathy. And then came my sister.

Here she is, surrounded by her kids.


I love you, sis. Happy birthday.


2 Responses to “Better Than a Chatty Cathy”

  1. 1 Rochelle Ritzi September 22, 2007 at 1:09 am

    What sweet, sweet memories. Thanks for sharing and tell her Happy Birthday from blogville! 🙂

  2. 2 Becky September 22, 2007 at 7:22 am

    I will tell her, Rochelle. Thank you.

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September 2007
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