I rescued this doll, my pride and joy at age 6, from my sister’s attic.  I thought it had been lost to a tornado forty years ago, but it seems my sister had whisked it off from my parents’ basement prior to the tornado that ripped its roof off a few years later.  Minus her shoes and socks and a bit dirty of face, she shows the wear and tear of two more generations of little girls. She is a near-life-sized walking doll.  If you lift one arm and lower it, it causes her legs to see-saw and if you hold on tight, she walks with you.  One eye has come loose in the socket, but she retains the full-cheeked youth that most of the little girls who have played with her have since forfeited.  I no longer remember her name, but I do remember which corner of my yellow-walled, green linoleumed and dormered room she resided in.

Oops–just found this one I have to add.  Found at the beach recently:

These pictures and this story are in response to this challenge: http://teepee12.com/2015/05/20/serendipitous-photo-prompt-2015-6-toni-plastic/