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Every year for Christmas my mom would make my sister and myself a special new doll. Some of them were knitted, crochet, and some were made with beads and other materials, But there was nothing that compared to my rag-doll Josephine. She was a special doll to me. I named her after a girl in the 1979 orphan train movie. They called her JP for short. She was an orphan in NYC. A city mission was going out west to find homes for these children who were without parents or any kind of love because they lived on the streets. Josephine got on the train to find a new home out west with the rest of the…mehr

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Every year for Christmas my mom would make my sister and myself a special new doll. Some of them were knitted, crochet, and some were made with beads and other materials, But there was nothing that compared to my rag-doll Josephine. She was a special doll to me. I named her after a girl in the 1979 orphan train movie. They called her JP for short. She was an orphan in NYC. A city mission was going out west to find homes for these children who were without parents or any kind of love because they lived on the streets. Josephine got on the train to find a new home out west with the rest of the children. The named seemed fitting for my rag-doll so the name stuck. Over the years Josephine and I would go on a journey of life. She would hold my secrets. I would cry many tears with her. She was the only one I could talk to, and she would understand. She would be my security blanket through depression, thoughts of suicide, sexual and physical abuse, teenage pregnancy, drugs and loneliness'. Josephine would lead me through darkness times, she would help me to cope with the pain and rejection. We went on a journey of my life together. I could depend on her to always be there. She never told me I wasn't important or not wanted. Josephine help get me through the moments of life that took my innocence away. She was there when I was touched by men that had no right to touch me. Josephine was there when I thought life wasn't worth living. She was always there. This is just as much her story as it is mine. We triumphed at the end and continue to thrive in the midst of pain and sorrow. I leaned on her, and she was there for me. A gift on Christmas Day changed my life. I am not sure if a little girl . knew the impact this doll would have on her life. but, now into my fifties I know I couldn't survive without her. This story is written in a way that we are sitting down together with a cup of coffee or tea and sharing our stories together. The story of my life is meant to encourage you to tell your story so that we all could heal together.
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