The Saga of Samantha

Linking up, ever-so-tenatively today, with emily at imperfect prose.  While I'm working at trying to figure out if I could actually be a writer someday, I'm also trying to figure out what sort of writer I might be.  The answer, in both cases, is I simply don't know.  In any case, this is a re-post of a piece I wrote several years ago for my Christmas letter.  Friends and family liked it and made me think maybe I could write.  It's not terribly redemptive, just sort of quirky and fun.  Enjoy.

Once upon a time, there was a young maiden who greatly desired a doll named Samantha. Those who make this very doll show that they are wise, for they assign to her features of a particular historic period, then do they charge exorbitant fees for her purchase. So greatly did this maiden desire this doll that she approached her father with a plan which seemed good unto her.


“Father,” began the maiden, “thou dost know that I greatly desire a doll. Yea, not any doll do I desire, but only the one whose name is Samantha. Wherefore thou must know that Samantha is a doll from which I may learn things of great historic significance. Yet, she doth cost a great deal of money. Would thou, if I asked very sweetly, consider granting me half the sum I need to purchase her?”

“My dear maiden,” responded the father, “thou dost know that there is little I would not do for thee. Pray, how much would half the sum set me back?”

“Forty dollars,” replied the maiden.

“Nay, I will not shell out forty dollars for such a thing as a doll,” responded the father. “Lo, it cannot be used to kill wild animals, nor would it serve any other useful purpose. If thou must have the doll, thou must raise the funds thine own self.”

Upon hearing thus, the maiden’s countenance fell. Yet her resolve did strengthen within her. Her allowance, birthday money, and the spare change upon which she happened she did begin to hoard.


As it happened, a kindly uncle did hear of the maiden’s distress. Said he to the maiden, “In my basement lie many empty cans and bottles. If thou wilt undertake the work of returning them to the store from whence they came, thou may keep the nickel deposit each will bring. I have now a house, a wife and an occupation, and am far too busy to return them myself. Besides, it is my wish that when I am old and infirm, thou wilt look back fondly upon this gesture of mine and refrain from shutting off my oxygen.”

Thus, the maiden did profit from the sloth of the kind uncle. Verily, she had saved all that she needed, but eight dollars more, when a gift did arrive from her beloved grandmother putting her over the top.

“Mother!” cried the maiden. “Wilt thou take me to the moneychanger that I may trade in my pennies for such a thing as a cheque? I needs must have one to send through the post to that wondrous far-away land where all dolls of great historic significance are kept.”

The mother did assist the maiden and the necessary papers were posted. Then did the maiden begin to wait for the arrival of Samantha. The wait had not progressed long ere ill tidings reached the maiden’s ears. As it happened, those who wear brown uniforms and drive brown vans which transport packages had vowed to do so no longer until they began to be paid greater sums of cash. Perhaps their act was one of desperation as they too had young maidens who greatly desired overpriced dolls of great historic significance.

At length, the package deliverers returned to their labors. Samantha arrived at the home of the maiden amidst great rejoicing. She doth abide there yet and may be found, most often, facedown on the carpet and missing one shoe.