When I was young, we had a family friend who had a son my brother's age, but no other children for me to play with. When we would visit, sometimes I would occupy my time by myself.
Once, I found an old wood box in their yard by the house. I remember feeling that the box would make a good playroom for small dolls. I am still enchanted by the idea of an old wood box as a doll room outside in a garden setting, among the wet grass and earth.
What is most sweet about this memory is that my mother told me that when she was young, growing up in Honolulu, she used to play that flowers were dolls. I could imagine a daisy turned upside down, like a fairy wearing a skirt. I love that idea!
Now I see that the descendants of these magical flower dolls are the small dolls like Hitty, other wood or cloth dolls, and poly people. They rise up from the flower beds and smile at their existence in our world.