"How long will it last, Woody? Do you really think Andy is going to take you to college, or on his honeymoon? Andy's growing up, and there's...

nothing you can do about it. It's your choice, Woody. You can go back, or you can stay with us and last forever. You'll be adored by children for generations." ~ Stinky Pete "Toy Story 2"

Yesterday I found out some rather upsetting news. Well upsetting to me, the average person will probably just think I'm ca-razzzy. Samantha Parkington is being retired. Who is Samantha? you may ask.

For Christmas in 1989 (yea, that long ago) I received a burgundy box with a cream ribbon tied around it. Inside that box was a doll with long brown hair and big brown eyes that opened and close, clothed in the most beautiful burgundy plaid dress with a perfectly tied bow in her hair. It was love at first sight!

As a child Samantha was my most prized possession. I took her everywhere with me, I poured over the books which told the stories of her life and times in Victorian America. I borrowed every book on every American Girl (at the time: Kirsten, Molly, and later Felicity). I obsessed over the catalog every month, creating a new wish list of things I wanted from, what was then called, "Pleasant Company".

We couldn't afford the clothes or her accessories. I still don't know how my parents afforded to even buy me Samantha. My grandmother bought the patterns for Samantha's clothes and she made me several of the outfits for her, and matching ones for me. I would save up as much of my birthday and Christmas money as my mom would let me and I would buy a dress here, a dress there. In the almost 20 years of my having Samantha I've acquired only a small pitttance of her things.

I think this is why I am so upset about the retirement of a doll: To me, she was always more than a doll. My friends and I (my best friend had Kirsten) would spend whole weekends dressing our dolls and acting out the books. We actually acquired the scripts to a play about Kirsten. A full stage production complete with sets and costumes, we even charged "admission" for our families to see it. I was Kirsten's "Papa" (I always got stuck playing the guys).

(l to r: Samantha and her books, Clothes I've bought, Clothes that were made by my Oma).

Of course, as I got older Samantha became less and less a part of my every day life. She spent more time in a chest that was my great-grandfather's than she did being played with. But, in spite of what Stinky Pete say's, she's never been forgotten. She's been waiting...for my little girl to play with.

There are two things which I think are making this whole thing so sad to me.
1) Samantha reminds me a lot of my Oma. She spent so much time making me and my doll these beautiful dresses. I wore most of them until I split the seams. At the time I remember being so upset that they weren't EXACTLY like the dresses from the catalog...what made up for that was Samantha and I dressed exactly alike. Now, I just think of her and how much time and love she put into making those dresses and it makes me miss her terribly.
2) My little girl. I don't have one. I don't know IF I'll have one. I've always wanted a little girl...someone to share all the memories of my Oma with, someone to share my doll with, someone who would (hopefully) get as excited about a doll of her own as I did.

While two separate things, it is my past and my future which I have associated Samantha with: My Oma and my daughter. Neither of them are with me now, and now Samantha will no longer be here either.

I've already informed my mother and Matt that the majority of my Christmas list will consist of things for Samantha that I have never got around to buying. Yes, I'm 26 and I'm asking for doll clothes and accessories for Christmas.

Tell me: Did you have a toy that was, and is, special to you?