The Many Cries of Dolly

Dolly was a little girl, hardly more than a baby. In fact, when she came to stay with the Jackson family, she was just taking her first steps. And she didn’t talk yet, either.

“We will have to be patient with Dolly,” Mrs. Jackson told her daughter, Anne. “She doesn’t know us and she can’t tell us how she is feeling.”

“Except by crying,” Anne said.

“Yes, that is how babies talk,” Mrs. Jackson agreed. “We will have to learn to understand what she is crying for.” She lifted the rosy-cheeked baby and smiled. “We are happy to have Dolly in our home, aren’t we? Why don’t you play with her on the floor while I prepare lunch.”

Anne soon made friends with Dolly. She played peek-a-boo and made the baby laugh. Then she brought out the blocks and made towers for Dolly to knock over. It was much more fun than playing with baby dolls! That is, until Dolly began to cry.

“What is she saying, Mama?” Anne asked.

“Perhaps she is hungry,” Mrs. Jackson said. “Would you like to feed her some applesauce?”

Soon Dolly was in the highchair, with a bib tucked under her little chin. “She likes it, Mama!” Anne exclaimed. “See? She isn’t crying now.”

Big brother Joseph came in from outside. “Is it time for lunch?” he called. “I’m hungry!” Dolly stopped eating and stared at him.

“Don’t be so loud, Joe,” Anne said quickly. “You will scare Dolly. She isn’t used to us yet.”

“I’m not scary!” Joe said, coming over to look at the new baby. He puffed out his cheeks and blinked his eyes like a lizard. Dolly’s little lips turned down. She shut her eyes and began to cry.

“It’s okay, Dolly,” Anne said in her most soothing voice. “Joe won’t hurt you.” She glared at her brother and he backed off.

“What is she crying for?” Joseph asked his mother.

“Everything is new to her and she probably is getting tired,” Mrs. Jackson explained. “I’ll get her bottle ready and see if Dolly is ready for bed. Let’s all try to be kind to her and make her happy.”

Dolly seemed to cry about everything. At first it seemed like a game to Anne, as she tried to figure out what the little girl was saying.

“Maybe she is scared,” Anne said, when Dolly cried at nap time. “I’ll let her sleep with my Care Bear.”

After nap Dolly started crying again. “Is she hungry, Mama?” Anne asked. “Maybe she wants her bottle.”

“I think she wants to play with my doll,” Anne said later, when Dolly held out her hands and began to fuss. “See? She is hugging it!”

Sometimes Dolly’s cries weren’t so easy to understand. And sometimes she cried for things she couldn’t have. “What’s Dolly crying about now?” Joseph asked, coming out of his bedroom one afternoon. “She’s so loud that I can hardly study!”

“She wants to play outside with the kittens, but Mama won’t let her because it’s too cold,” Anne explained.

“What a cry baby!” Joseph said in disgust. “Why would she want to scream like that? It would give me a sore throat!”

Mrs. Jackson looked from the crying toddler to her ten-year-old son. “It would be a good thing if Dolly could trust us to give her what is best. But she acts just as selfish as someone else I know who begs for their own way.”

Joseph hung his head. He knew what his mother meant. Only that morning he had been complaining because he couldn’t go outside with his scooter. Was he just as selfish as the little girl screaming at the patio door?

“Peek-a-boo, Dolly!” Anne said, trying to distract her. “Come and play with me!” But Dolly just sat on the floor and put her fists in her eyes.

“Best leave her alone,” Mrs. Jackson suggested. “She thinks she can only be happy if she gets what she wants when she wants it. But she’ll learn differently.”

Sure enough, when Anne started playing house the little girl soon toddled over, clutching a baby doll in one arm. Anne handed her a toy bottle. “Ba-ba-ba!” Dolly said happily. She had forgotten all about the kittens.

“Where is Dolly?” Mrs. Jackson asked a few minutes later.

Anne looked up. The little girl was no where to be seen. Then Anne heard a little laugh from behind Mr. Jackson’s big chair. There sat Dolly with Mr. Jackson’s glasses in her two chubby hands. She was trying to put them on!

“No, no, Dolly,” Anne said with a laugh. “You can’t play with those!” She took the glasses out of the baby’s fingers and handed her a picture book instead.

Dolly’s mouth puckered in a frown. She threw the book down and reached for the glasses. “Huh, huh, waaaah!” she wailed. Mrs. Jackson came into the room.

“She wants to play with Daddy’s glasses,” Anne explained.

“Dolly can’t have those,” Mrs. Jackson agreed. “We can’t give her everything she cries about, can we?”

“She did look cute trying to put them on,” Anne said.

Mrs. Jackson smiled. “It is sometimes easier to give in. But a good parent has to make the decision to do what is best. Even if you might think I’m mean or unfair.”

Anne gave her mother a hug. “I don’t think you’re mean!” she said.

“What about when I say you have to do your work over?” Mrs. Jackson pointed to the crumbs left under the kitchen table. “With Dolly around, you need to be extra careful about the sweeping.”

Anne puckered her lips. “I forgot to move the chairs,” she admitted. “But I’ll do it without crying about it!” she added, dancing over to get the broom.

“That’s my big girl,” Mrs. Jackson said.