Sara was in my class at school in the first and second grade and was always being taunted, and laughed at as she didn’t have nice clothes and came to school dirty. No one would sit by her on the school bus, and she would never look up when you spoke to her, fearing I suppose more of the nasty and cruel remarks that children can say.

The day we came back to school after Christmas was a big day for all of us. We were allowed to bring in our most favorite gift to show and tell about.

Well, it was 1957 and I had received the most beautiful Shirley Temple for Christmas! She had a trunk with a lot of new clothes and oh, those curls! I had been asking - no begging - Santa Claus for her for months and I was so proud of her!

Everyone took their turn standing up and showing off all their special prizes and all were laughing and having such fun. Then it was Sara’s turn. She had nothing to show and tell about. The teacher asked her if she forgot to bring her gift and Sara jumped at the chance to have an explanation. It was then that one of the boys in class spoke up and said to Sara that she didn’t bring anything because she didn’t get anything! It was so cruel and mean. Sara started to cry.

That afternoon when the bus came, I got on the bus with my Shirley Temple and sat down next to Sara. I didn’t care what anyone thought about me. I asked her if she wanted to hold my doll. For a few moments, she hesitated, afraid I suppose that I would pull her away. I asked her again, and she reached for her and held her with this look on her face that I shall never forget. I then told Sara that I wanted her to take Shirley home with her, that I had a lot of other dolls that I could play with at home. She was so happy. I think that’s the first time I ever saw her smile. We got off the bus together and she walked down the road holding Shirley in her arms.

I was feeling a mixture of joy and sorrow at that moment and when I got in the house I was crying my eyes out. My grandmother tried to calm me and asked me over and over again what was wrong. I told her I gave Shirley to Sara because Santa Claus didn’t come to her house and she didn’t get anything for Christmas.

I thought I would be in a world of trouble, but all my grandmother did was hold me and cry with me. I didn’t know why my grandmother would cry, unless she was sad that I had given Shirley away. But the very next day, she took me to the department store uptown and bought me another - just like the one Santa had brought me.

I still have her and I wonder sometimes whatever happened to that first Shirley. And to Sara ...