Many years I have kept in mind a wonderful memory when I was a young child aged ten in 1943, where street posters of ‘Dig for victory’ and ‘Join the Women’s Land Army’ reminded us all that we were right in the midst of the war years. It was nearly Christmas and everywhere was cold and frosty and on my way to school I had to pass the shops in the High Street. They were all decorated with glittering tinsel and handmade paper streamers of all different colours. I stopped at Hassall’s and immediately caught sight of a toy that melted my heart. It was a black doll in a green and black suit with a matching hat of soft material and he had such a kindly face and I couldn’t wait to get home from school to ask my mum if I could have this beautiful doll for Christmas. Every morning afterwards I looked in at Hassall’s window to see that
friendly face and counting down the days to Christmas. Then on Christmas Eve I had to ‘run some errands’ for my mum with money and coupons for grocery from Mr Perks and bread from Stanton’s cake shop returning home by Hassall’s. But the doll was gone. I went in to the shop only to be told ‘Sorry Kathy, it’s been sold.’I felt drained of everything. The next morning I got out of bed not even wanting any presents. My Christmas had been ruined. But when I went downstairs into the kitchen, my mum said ‘Happy Christmas – here’s a present for you’ and handed me a brown paper parcel. I slowly unwrapped it to see a little black doll’s face made of fine china looking up at me. I said a loud and heartfelt ‘Thank You’ and my mum said that I had to give him a name. I cuddled the doll and thought of several names but a warm memory of when I was picking blackberries in the summer with my close friend floated into my mind. I thought about him, then looked at mum and said ‘Yes, I’ll call my little black doll Lenny’.
Kathleen Reeves

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