Dolls have captured the imaginations of little girls the world over for centuries - possibly millennia. Every little girl I know (and some big ones as well,) has at least one doll to play with. This tale is about a doll that I own - a doll that I bought on the Cherokee reservation a year or so ago. I fell in love with her costume and the fact that my mother was given a similar Native American doll by my father a long time ago.
My doll doesn't have a name. I don't really play with her. She is just a kind of silent sentry in our house. She's not very big, but she is endearing and her eyes close if you lay her down. She sits on top of a narrow bookcase that used to be in our kitchen, but we have since moved her to the hallway, along with her entourage: a couple of musical snow globes, some English knights, some photos in frames and an oil burner.
I set her up so that she would face into the hallway so that I could see her beautiful little face as I walk by, but a couple of weeks ago, I noticed that she was facing the front door. I wondered who had turned her, but shrugged my shoulders and turned her back to face out into the hallway.
Last week, I noticed that she was facing the front door again. So, intrigued, I turned her back to face the hallway again - a full 90 degrees. I asked a few friends about it - did they think my doll was "haunted?" I got varying responses.
One woman said that the doll might have a cling-on, in other words, a spirit that likes the doll and wants to play with it. Another said that maybe 'someone' was trying to tell me something about the front door.
I listened to this last advice and checked the front door of the house. Sure enough - it was unlocked. I don't know how many days it had gone unlocked like that. But I locked the door after I discovered it.
I still don't know if there's anything to it - but it makes a good tale for the start of October. And just to be on the safe side, I announced that I was happy to share my little Native American doll - with whomever wanted to play with her.