 |
| Ida Jones Davenport |
I loved my Grandma, even though she could be a cantankerous old woman sometimes. I remember her music and her singing as loud as she could while she played her guitar or her mandolin. She had a gift, in spite of her life-long struggle with speech because she was born with a Cleft Palate and a Hair Lip. Adversity did not keep her from being the strong woman she was, or maybe she was the strong woman she was in spite of them!
When I was growing up, my mom taught me to respect other people's property and never to touch their belongings without their permission. I remembered those teachings every time we went to Grandma and Grandpa's farm for a visit. Grandma had this beautiful breakfront chest with glass doors in her bedroom, and inside on one of the shelves, she kept some of her most prized possessions. One of those possessions was a very old doll with a china head, hands and feet. Her body was stuffed with sawdust and she wore a brown pioneer dress with black ribbon trim. Everything on her was original...and she was nearly 100 years old!
 |
| Grandma's Doll, my Emma Circa 1850's |
On every visit to Grandma's house, I would go into her bedroom, lay on the floor on my stomach and stare at that doll for what seemed like hours. I was mesmerized by that doll. On one visit, Grandma came into her room and found me there and asked what I was looking at. I told her I loved that doll and asked if I could hold her? She opened the glass door and lifted the doll out and handed her to me...and then she proceeded to tell me her story. She had once belonged to a friend of hers when she was a young girl growing up whose mother, when she was a child, had carried her in a wagon across the plains with the Pioneers. Oh, how I loved that story!
When I was a teenager, Grandma called me into her room and asked me if I thought I was responsible enough to take care of that doll. When I asked her, "Why?" she said, "Because, if you are, then I want to give her to you." My heart lept for joy and I hugged her and hugged her and said, "Thank you," over and over again. I named her Emma.
I did take care of that doll and over the years she has had a special place in my different display cases...until just a few years ago, when I gifted her to my daughter, JerriAnne, who I knew would love her and take as good care of her as I have. I told her, when she was old, I wanted her to gift the doll to the Daughter's of The Utah Pioneers Museum in Salt LakeCity, Utah. She deserves a place in the history of our beloved Pioneer.
