While I was clearing the cabinets and closets,I found the dusty doll my CNU literature class gave me on my last days in the university, the day I decided which battle was worth the while. Had I known I would not see them graduate, I would have left the birthday gift, the only one that I accepted from students, in those walls. But it was meant to be taken home. At the time, I didn't understand why I had to. I'm not comfortable getting presents from students. Seeing Shekinah oogles with delight seeing it might be one of the many reasons why.
But all right, I admit, no matter how I hide this little part of me, it is bound to show. I am mushy, sentimental poor grown-up girl who never got a real doll when I was small. It was always a makeshift doll or a downtown plastic creation bought at Colon streets where they abound. But so what, on that day, finally, right on my 36th birthday, I got a real expensive doll, way too pretty for my rough aging hands.
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