First Birthday

The room was decorated with festive, brightly colored streamers and balloons. The whole house seemed to be dressed up for the occasion. Three young children, two girls and one boy, wearing their nicest party clothes, looked a tad bit uncomfortable as they stood for pictures with older relatives.

Today was a big day, but they didn’t care. All they really wanted was to be outside with their own friends, not in this house with the kids of their parents’ friends. But they had no choice, so they sat for pictures and behaved themselves, knowing the consequences of stepping out of line today.

Today, their baby sister was turning one. Not that she knew what was really going on, all she knew was there was a party going on and everyone was treating her like a little princess. They sneered at her when no one was watching them, a little resentful of all the attention she was getting. The boy, especially, had reason to gripe…since until she came along, he was the youngest, the baby, and he had loved that title. He took small comfort in the knowledge that he was the only boy in the family.

The party was in full swing, everyone seemed to be having a good time. The birthday girl hadn’t stopped smiling and laughing for the last two hours. She was having the time of her life. Everyone was there, her siblings, her mom, her grandma, even her godmother was there, she lived far away so the girl only got to see her a few times.

Before too long, the cake was being cut, she doesn’t even remember blowing out the candles, or trying to, and she is too busy stuffing her face with the sweet dessert to notice or care that she is making a mess.

After the cake is done and she’s cleaned up again, she’s sitting on her mother’s lap as the gifts are being opened. Her eyes light up at each new toy, or article of clothing. But then, the very last gift, the one from her grandmother, was laid in her hands. It was a baby doll that looked a lot like her. She stared into the eyes of the doll and a small smile appeared on her face. This doll, she would treasure for the rest of her life. This doll she would have until she had kids of her own and passed it down to her own grandchild.

This is the story my mom tells me at least twice a year. Once on my own birthday and once on my grandmother’s birthday. I still have that doll, it is still my most prized possession. I took some liberties with the emotions and motivations but the story holds true of my first birthday when I got the doll that I would keep forever. Other dolls and toys came and went in my life, each one staying for a time but eventually discarded, either by the passage of time or the casualties of moving day. But this doll had stayed with me and she continues to watch over me from her place of honor on a shelf in my bedroom.

The End