The first time was in a Taco Bell. Mary was just a few weeks old. There was a table of friendly senior citizens next to us, and one of the gentlemen remarked that Mary was a "doll baby." On our way out, we stopped by their table so they could admire little Mary. We chatted for a minute or two, and when we left, they repeatedly insisted that she was indeed a "doll baby." I thought it was so sweet that they had called her a "doll baby," and I made a mental note to "remember that one time when Mary was called Doll Baby." At the moment I didn't realize it was going to be a lot more than one time.
Wherever we go--grocery stores, church, restaurants, the doctor's office, parks, airports, swimming lessons--the chances are good that someone will remark that Mary is a "doll baby." Now, it's not that unusual when you're accompanied by a baby and/or small child for people to stop you to comment on "how sweet" or "how cute" or "how adorable." (And thank you to those people!) What has been striking in Mary's case is her ability to consistently inspire people to use the phrase "doll baby." Before Mary was in my life, I had never given a thought to "doll babies." I'm sure I didn't even know what one was. But now I have been educated by the dozens and dozens of strangers who have stopped to admire my little girl--a "doll baby" is Mary.
So this is the story we will tell: Mary, you were a doll baby. You were such a beautiful baby that wherever we went, people were stopped in the their tracks. Older people, younger people, small children, big children. Busy people, bored people, chatty people, quiet people. Everyone wanted a chance to admire you, to have their hearts softened and their days brightened by your happy smile and shining eyes. "Doll baby! Doll baby!" That's what they said. Mary, here's what they mean: "The world has been a better place since you entered it." And I have to agree.
