Raggedy Andy

I will preface this post by saying that everywhere I take Jellybean, he seems to win friends and influence people. When I brought him to my workplace, this was no exception, especially since I work with mostly women. Jellybean flirts with the school secretary and cuddles when my principal holds him. He usually kicks with excitement and smiles when anyone pays him even a modest amount of attention.

Today I was minding my own business at work when the nurse called me to her office. She had a gift for Jellybean that she'd been meaning to give me the past couple of weeks. I sat down to open it and found this:

Call me a total sap, but it brought tears to my eyes. First of all, this is a very extravagant gift. The nurse hand-made this Andy doll for me from a Mc Call's pattern she found in her mother-in-law's old things. She called Mc Call's and found out that the pattern came from somewhere in the 1920's, which was not long after the birth of Raggedy Andy. Once Nurse Virginia realized that I knew the value of Andy, she began showing me all the things she had done in the process of making him, right down to her initials and date sewn in on his keester. She only charges $50 for these dolls, which is a huge underestimation of the time and care she puts into these dolls. For that reason, she usually just ends up making them as gifts.

Secondly, only a certain generation can appreciate the history of a Raggedy Ann and Andy doll. I told Virginia about my Raggedy Ann doll that was dirty and worn from me dragging her all over the place when I was a little girl. To go along with my doll, my mother had made ceramic plaques of Ann and Andy for my brother's and my room when we were little. Unfortunately, both the doll and the plaques are long gone.

Jellybean now has a historical timepiece that I can share with him to accompany my tales from my own childhood - a gift that is precious and invaluable.