What to do with old dolls? Don’t dump them, donate them to a doll hospital

My Dinah. 1967 Ideal Thumbelina newborn doll

Dinah was my first doll, at least the first doll I can remember. She was just the right size for my 3-year-old self. She was a soft-bodied doll with plastic head, arms and legs, golden hair, and blue eyes. She had a pull string with a plastic o-ring tied to the end. When you pulled it, her body would wriggle around like a newborn baby. Her tag reveals she was a Thumbelina newborn doll made by Ideal, circa 1967.

She was my favorite dolly. I took her everywhere, pushing her down the sidewalk in a little wooden doll buggy, carrying her around by the arm while I rode my red trike.

My Grandma Lucille knew how much I loved Dinah and made a fancy doll bed for her out of an oatmeal container turned horizontally with one side cut away. She covered it in elegant wallpaper, trimmed it with gold brocade, and made a mattress, pillow and quilt ensemble out of blue satin dress scraps. It was the most wonderful doll bed, just the right size for Dinah. (I wish I had a picture of the actual one my grandma made but here’s an example.)

At some point, I must have decided Dinah needed a makeover. I cut her hair short and colored her face with an orange permanent marker, making her look creepily similar to a certain former president.

So when my brother pulled Dinah out of a box in the upstairs closet at our family farm in Minnesota last summer, along with a very ragged Raggedy Ann with a ripped neck and a baby doll with only one working eye, he told me to come and get my freaky bunch of dolls before he took them to the dump.

I brought them home. But what to do with them? I have no daughters, there will be no grandchildren in the near future. And frankly, the three of them were pretty worn, grungy, and scary, not in any condition to share with a young child. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to toss them in the trash.

A quick Internet search revealed a doll hospital in Chicago’s western suburbs that accepts old dolls to use for parts in fixing other dolls. Their website says they try to reuse and recycle everything, and I take them at their word. Just knowing my dolls have a chance to be rejuventated or transformed to be enjoyed again makes me happy.

I could have shipped the dolls to the hospital but instead chose to deliver them myself, spending the time and gas to travel 60 miles roundtrip. An Earth-friendly choice? Maybe not. But I wanted to dispose of them properly and this was my way of seeing the project through to the end. The dolls have been donated and I have decluttered a few sentimental items in a way that might keep them out of the landfill and give them new life.

It’s hard to get rid of sentimental things. But I get to keep the memories.