I bought a bedraggled Little Miss No Name on eBay for about twenty bucks.  We enjoyed each other’s company, but after letting her sit on my bookshelf for awhile with her eyes looking the way they do, I decided she’d be an attractive gift to put in the annual “grab bag” Christmas gift exchange with my friends.

 

Bixby, then commonly known as a flinty, Scrooge-like individual, was blessed by Fate to open the package containing this special creature.  And though I haven’t asked him, I’m sure he’d say, “My heart melted right then, looking into this poor, disadvantaged little girl’s eyes.  I decided to amend my life right there, and see what I could do -- not only to make her life better, but to touch the lives of other Little Miss No Names who have no place in the world.” 

 

Since that day -- only last year! -- a much-improved, beneficent Bixby has taken two more Little Miss No Names into his home.  Has he given any of them names?  No.  Because if he did, he’d be robbing her of her special identity.  She’d cease to be Little Miss No Name and become Molly or Chrissie or Caitlin.

 

 

 

 

 

"Believe me, I've been there," I say.

 

 

 

Little Miss No Name always makes the party.

 

 

PICS FROM PAUL AND BIXBY'S HOLIDAY PARTY

 

 

 

 

(Clockwise, from left:)  Little Miss No Name, Bixby, Little Miss No Name, Little Miss No Name

 

Doing a little research, I’ve found that the magic of Little Miss No Name has spread throughout the world.  In Kokomo, Indiana, a charitable group called “We Care” came across a Little Miss No Name.  From their webpage, this is their story:

 

 

Late one evening in the early '80s, while Jan B. was sorting through the boxes and bags of the daily donated items, a small doll fell out of one bag. Instantly the look on the doll's face touched the hearts of those working. In the silence of the moment, everyone knew the doll would touch the hearts of the community.

 

Her dress was wrinkled, her hair a mess, and a stain on her face had once held a tear. She was named Hope.

 

She immediately took her place on the set for the annual WE CARE telethon. At the conclusion of the 1986 telethon, in one spontaneous act, Hope was the last item offered for bid. She was purchased and then unexpectedly returned the following year to be sold again.

 

A tradition began which has established Hope as a special part of a community that shares its love and resources unselfishly. A likeness of Hope has been featured on various artwork, coins, jewelry, and clothing. She has won the hearts of the community but has been privileged to be held by just a very few.

 

 

Though I suppose Hope is technically no longer a Little Miss No Name -- because she’s named Hope -- she’s done that line of dolls proud: this bummed-out little lady goes for BIG BUCKS each year!  If you click on their webpage, you’ll see that Chrysler Transmission coughed up ***$84,111*** for her in the 1996 “We Care” auction!

 

Way to go Chrysler Transmission!  Way to go Hope!

 

*     *     *

 

So next Christmas, don’t buy the girls in your life the Salon Surprise Barbie.  For that matter, don’t buy the boys a Microsoft Xbox. 

 

Go on eBay.  Find the saddest Little Miss No Name you can.  And though your young person’s eyes may not light up at Christmas, you can rest secure that when they’re older, when they stumble across a needy someone whose hand is out --

 

You can hope they won’t turn out like you.

 

 

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