Working with What You've Got

Mia has a lovely doll named Sophia Merida, and true to her maternal little heart, Mia plays with her, talks to her, takes her places, makes clothes for her, sings to her, and generally considers Sophia to be her very own child. 

In an unfortunate accident, Sophia recently lost a leg. 

When Mia showed me the problem and I determined that replacing the leg was extremely unlikely, I began thinking about how soon we could get Mia a new doll. Christmas? Should I make her a deal that if she saved half the money I'd kick in half? Should I just buy a new doll right now, since I know how much Mia enjoys playing with her precious Sophia? 

I tentatively posed the question of whether we should start looking for a new doll. 

Mia made angry eyes at me. 

"It's just a LEG, mom," she retorted. "Sophia is still Sophia; just without one of her legs now." 

She left my room, darting backward glances as if daring me to even try taking Sophia out of her arms. From her room I could hear her reassuring Sophia that she would never, ever give her up. 

When I called the kids for dinner, all four of them came running in the kitchen with great enthusiasm. 

"Look, mom! Eric solved the problem! Eric found a way to help Sophia since her leg is gone!" 

As you can see, Eric created a Lego-wheelchair so that Sophia will barely notice the absence of her leg. All four children are extremely proud of their innovative solution; Grace: "now we don't even have to save our money for a real wheelchair!" 

Gulp. I was thinking saving money for a new doll; they were planning how to save for a real wheelchair. 

People just aren't replaceable. Even doll people. And everyone has value, even if they look less than perfect to ignorant outsiders like me. Even doll everyones. 

What would the world look like if we all saw people through Mia's eyes? Lucky me, to be so close.