| General Poetry
posted June 20, 2021 |
For the Dialogue Only Club.
Granny's Doll Story
“Tell us another story, Granny,” said Morgan, Granny Turner’s ten-year-old granddaughter as she and her sister sat on the porch steps.
Granny rocked and said, “Mercy, chile. You cain’t wanna hear that nonsense. I’ve told you all I kin think of.”
“Well,” said eight-year-old Mallory, “then tell us again about your doll, Edna.”
“Ain’t you tard of that tale yet? Well, here goes.
“As I told you afore, I was born in a small town in southwest Arkansas. Times was hard ‘cause of the depression. I’ve told you ‘bout the time they call the Great Depression these days. Lots o’ folk didn’ have enough to eat, and some even lost their homes. But my daddy saw to it we had food. We had a big garden, and my mama would can vegetables, and he had a pig and a cow. We was very lucky.
“Well-sir, it had only one department store. Yep, I know that’s hard for y’all to understand what with all the stores nowadays.
“It was nearin’ Christmas, and in the window was a beautiful doll with Edna ‘broidered on ‘er dress. I thought she was the purtiest thing I’d ever seen. But I also knew there was no hope of havin’ her for my own. I was certain sure Margaret May would get Edna. Her fam’ly had money, and she sure enough got most anythin’ she wanted.”
“But she didn’t get Edna, did she, Granny,” piped Mallory.
“Do you wannna hear the story? Okay. As I said, I jes’ knew Margaret would git that wunnerful doll fer sure.
“You caint ever imagine my surprise when I seen her under the Christmas tree on Christmas mornin’. When I went downstairs, I was almost struck down at the sight o’ her.”
Morgan chimed in, “Tell us how you came to get Edna, Granny.”
“Mercy, chile. Let me git my breath caught up. It were years later that I found out the why and wherefores of Edna’s bein’ mine.
“Seems my mama took 25 cents out of egg money, an’ that was a lotta money in them days, an’ went an’ paid it ever week on Edna. I didn’ know that for many years. Fin’ly, my mama told me ‘bout it.
“There you have it. I musta told ya’ll that story a hunnert times. Now, go play awhile. Granny’s tired.”
“Granny,” said Morgan, “you tell the best stories in the world.”
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NOTES: This was really the story of my mother and the doll. She got Edna on Christmas, 1931, which was also Mother's tenth birthday. I have Edna now.
I've written about Edna before, but I used the story for the Writing Dialogue Club.
The dialect is one of how a country Southern woman might speak a long time ago. Certainly no offense intended.
Club entry for the "Giving your character a voice" event in "Writing dialogue". Locate a writing club.
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