By E. E. Rawls
One small china doll
She was sitting on a shelf in the store.
For years having been there, watching children come
Looking around and choosing the newest and best toys,
Caring only about “appearances” and how cool the toy was.
But no one…no one ever bothered to look her way.
No one ever noticed her existence
Because she wasn’t beautiful
Hair and dress a tattered mess
A rag in doll form.
It would take a lot of money to fix her
She wasn’t what people wanted to buy.
She wasn’t how they wanted her to be,
Blonde hair tangled
Scratch marks crossing her face
Blue dress torn and ripped with wear and moths
Smears of dust streaking it…
No one would want her.
Who could ever love an ugly thing like her and bring her home?
Who would take the extra trouble of cleaning her up?
‘I don’t deserve a home, anyway,’ the doll thought,
‘None, but to be cast in the Furnace like straw.’
—as was done to ruined and unwanted toys.
Soon, she would meet that fate, too
Consumed by those horrible flames.
A teardrop fell…
The door of the shop opened just then:
A Son walked in, with His Father beside Him.
Starting from one end of the store’s small room
They took their time, inspecting each shelf and what it held,
Examining the many toys lined up, both new and old.
But the doll did not care.
She did not dare to hope,
She did not even lift her face to see.
She had given that hope up a very long time ago.
—Nobody would ever love her.
The Father’s steps halted and His gaze came to a stop
Resting on a doll—the doll hidden and tucked away
Within the last shelf’s darkest corner.
He went to her
Lifted her up by one strong, gentle hand.
“This one is worn…”
Her heart sank at the words
“…but within there is potential. A repentant heart.”
The Father handed the doll over to His Son to see.
“Potential…I will make use of it!” said the Son
Holding her in His hand, His warmth radiated
Like sunshine all around her, lifting her sinking heart
Up to the surface of possible hope.
A tear dripped down, and the Son wiped it off her cheek,
She stared back, thinking ‘Me? Really?’
The unbeautiful, tattered mess?
“I’ll purchase you now, small one.
I know you will serve Me well, I know your potential,
Your beauty in heart is great
Though your scratches and defects may be many.
Fear not, for we purchase you as ours
That we may give you a home with us
Where all your tears shall vanish
And all injuries be erased and mended,
Every scratch sown and every dusty defect cleansed,
That you may live
And not be cast into the fiery Furnace of Hell,
But live with us in our Kingdom above.”
The china doll that nobody had ever wanted
The tattered-mess rag doll nobody could love, they had chosen her.
A surge of joy filled her, the spirit of belief renewing her soul.
“I will make you new again.”
The Son, Jesus, paid the price needed to purchase her.
For the very first time, the fragile doll knew she was loved,
Carried away from a fiery fate
To the Kingdom of everlasting life and love—a true home,
The rag doll made anew.
Copyright 2017 by E. E. Rawls