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It was the Wed. before Thanksgiving Day, and
we were all getting ready for a special service at our church. We
always had a special time of singing and praising and giving testimonies
on that evening. Every one would have a chance to stand up and tell
what they were thankful for. What Jesus meant in their personal
lives. I loved those services. I'd come to know the Lord at a
very early age and Jesus had done so much for me in my short life.
One of the things I was most thankful for
was the Brown family. And most especially Little Doll.
Even as a pre-teen, I felt almost like a mother to her. I was now 13
and she was 4 and growing prettier every year. She seemed to grow so
fast, I offered to take care of her every time I could and Mr. Brown
would let me. But he soon became a little angry with me for teaching
her all those little songs and telling her about how Jesus loved
her. It wasn't because he didn't believe in God, but he was growing
so bitter and sad and he just didn't want his little girl always begging
him to let her get on that old church bus and go hear more about Jesus. He
must of wondered where Jesus was when he was having such a hard life.
That
day Little Doll cried a lot. She wanted to go to church with me and
Mr. Brown was having no part no that. He told her if she didn't
stop, he'd have to stop her from spending so much time with me. But
of course he needed me because his own older girls never took good care of
her and he didn't seem to have enough heart to discipline them. They
pretty much did as they wanted and Little Doll was left to wonder around
by herself. I'd find her and take her home with me, and she'd stay until Mr. Brown came for her.
That
Wed. evening as we got on the bus and watched that little sweet Doll
standing there with tears streaming down her little cheeks, it was more
than I could bear. I started crying too and I asked Harvey if we
could have prayer for her and for the whole Brown family. Just like
I knew he would do, he said, "Sure we can." He pulled the
bus off the road and right then and there we all prayed that Mr. Brown's
heart would be softened and he'd allow Little Doll to go to church with us
soon. And I prayed especially that Jesus would comfort her little
heart and give her peace. When I stood up that night to give my
personal testimony and tell what Jesus had done for me, I gave special
thanks for the privilege of knowing and loving Little Doll and asked the
whole church to pray that her parents would allow her to start coming to
church. We
knew Christmas was right around the corner and the Brown family wouldn't
even have a Christmas tree. They wouldn't tell the kids the story
of how Jesus was born in a manger, or sing Silent Night. If
the kids got any presents it would be from neighbors that felt sorry for
them. Even though they had a good income. Mrs. Brown was still
such a sick woman that she was seldom seen and when she was, it was always
in her night gown and an old robe she always wore. And Mr. Brown,
sweet as he used to be, was growing more angry, it seemed every day.
None of us knew why, we just thought he felt bad a lot and then had so
much to do, trying to raise the kids and keep house and take care of his
sick wife, no wonder he was not a happy man. We stopped spending so
much time at their house. My mom said, "Poor Mrs. Brown doesn't
need you kids at their house all the time keeping her awake and making her
head hurt more than it already does."
I
prayed so hard that I'd be able to take Little Doll with us to church for
the Christmas services. I know she'd love hearing all the Christmas songs
about how Jesus was born in a manger and see all the decorations and the
happy smiling faces. After a play practice or choir practice I'd always
tell her all about it and we'd pray that her daddy would let her go.
He still wouldn't give in and let her go. The disappointment was just too much for
Little Doll. She began to
look so sad, and I missed those sweet little shiny eyes and that million
dollar smile of hers. My heart was broken for the Little Doll that I
loved so much. The older Brown girls
began to leave home, one at a time, as did our family. Some going on
to school, some getting married and starting their own families, and some
deciding they didn't need school and finding jobs.
I
was now 16 and in High School and Little Doll was 7 and starting into the
2nd. grade. She was picking up bad habits and the teachers were
having a problem with her behavior. I tried to be there for her but
I was growing up now and had lots of studying to do and was interested in
boys too, but I never forgot to pray for her and for the Brown
family. I never stopped loving her and always said when I got
married I wanted a Little Doll of my own. I would name her Darlene
too and call her Little Doll. I still spent as much time with her as
I could but of course things were different now. She loved me and I
was still, and would always be her "Aunt Callie". But her
behavior was hard for me to cope with. She'd say bad words and
talk back when I'd try to teach her something that I thought she needed to
know. We grew apart a little bit, but never in our hearts.
There was that special bond that would always be there for us both.
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