My Name is Suzie Smart…

As a child, Christmas was such an exciting time.  Our gifts at Christmas were pretty much the same each year.  My sisters and I always got a new doll, up until we were in middle school.  We got new pajamas, if any photos were taken the p.j.’s looked good in them.  We got the necessities, socks, shoes, blouses for our school uniform, and some games we shared and the pre-requisite crayons and coloring books.  We usually got a nice book we shared and our Father read it aloud to us, he had a great reading voice.

My older sister is four years older than me, so, when I was in second grade, she was a grown up in the sixth grade.

For some reason, I remember the Christmas I was in second grade.  I remember we opened the gifts and for me, I did not see a doll.  There was music playing on a new radio on the table which I assumed was for my parents.  It was a new clock radio, a yellow one, it was very cool.  The radio played all day long, I remember.

Our youngest sister had her doll.  She was very happy.  I remember looking at my older sister with a questioning look.  She had a doll also, and being so old, she wasn’t as excited about the doll as I thought she should be.  My parents saw me almost in tears and they started to laugh.

Finally my Mom told me to look to the side of the tree, in the corner.  Sitting there was the most beautiful doll I ever saw.  It was a Suzie Smart doll.  She was a blonde haired doll in a little school uniform.  She was sitting in her own desk, like the desk I had at school.  Behind her, was an actual blackboard on a stand!  I was amazed to have such a gift!

I yanked her out from behind the tree and for the rest of the day I played school.  I moved her from room to room and I was in love with her.  She took playing school to a new level.  She even talked!  She had a hard plastic button in the middle of her chest and when it was pushed, she recited, (this is from memory, so it may be incorrect) ” My name is Suzy Smart.  I can spell, Cat: C A T, Dog: D O G, I can do arithmetic, 2+2 is 4, 4+4 is 8,  I can recite: twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are”    Now, what could have been better than that?  I loved that doll!  She was part of my play time for years, even when she was worn out and at the end of her reciting she would go, ‘how I wonder what you are….are…are…’  .  At the end of her life, the ‘are’s’ sounded like belches, but she was well-loved.

Yes, that was a wonderful Christmas.  It seemed like the gifts were the kind that were special all day long.  At the end of the day Suzie went to bed with me.  She would sleep with me for a few weeks, until I realized the hard plastic hurt when you rolled on top of her.

As my sisters and I headed to bed that night, my folks looked at my oldest sister.  She didn’t have such a great day and I couldn’t understand it.  They then asked her if she was going to take her radio upstairs with her.  She turned and ran down the steps.  The very cool radio we had listened to all day, was not our folks, it was hers for her room.  She unplugged the radio and I can remember the smile she had on her face.  I fell asleep that night listening to her play with her radio in her grown up room.

Thanks for stopping by.  Do you have a Christmas from your youth you remember?  What made it memorable?  DAF


4 thoughts on “My Name is Suzie Smart…

  1. Her name was Blonde, and she sat under the Christmas tree in 1956 (I think). Her arms and legs were made of a soft rubber, her body cloth. She had a beautiful face with soft golden hair that was braided and tied with soft satin ribbon. Her coat and bonnet (Lily of Valley – my birth flower pinned on the side) and dress were hand made by a woman in Seattle, Washington. Evidently she was the only thing that accompanied me on flight from Los Angles to Seattle that day. I had no memory of that that Christmas morn – just a beautiful doll baby waiting to be loved again. My paternal grandmother had put her away until she felt I was old enough to understand. I’m almost 64 and I still don’t understand.

  2. My grandmother put her away after I arrived as a little one (I think I was 2 – 2 1/2), I didn’t remember Blonde and the memories didn’t return after she was given back to me at a later age. Only that she had originally given to me by my mother. No I really never played with her. I just sat her on my bed.

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