From the author: The article about the doll has been brewing for a long time... Perhaps in my early childhood there were some other dolls... But the first doll that clearly emerges before my eyes from my memory and from from my Soviet childhood she was simple and modest and her name was Oksana. This was the limit of my dreams at that time - she was given to me for my fifth or sixth birthday - I don’t remember. This doll looked exactly like in the photo, only the dress on my doll was pink. Having played enough at home, I went for a walk with my doll outside, leaving the adults at the festive table - well, how could it be otherwise? Sitting alone and playing with the new one I’m not interested in a doll - I need to share my joy of owning a new toy with other children. It seemed to me then that if I went out with a new doll, the children in the yard would rush to me asking me to look at or play with my doll, and even better, they would want to get to know me and make friends That is, I assigned to my new doll, in addition to playing functions, also the functions of attracting the attention of other children, increasing my importance, acquiring new acquaintances and friends. And I completely understand children who run with new toys to play in the yard. And so I came out of the entrance of the new five-story Khrushchev building in an embrace with my Oksana and saw a girl with brown hair my age. “Girl, what’s your name?” “Sveta,” the girl answered, holding her doll in her hands. Sveta’s doll was homemade - sewn, apparently, by her mother from beige canvas fabric, in a handmade dress, without hair and with drawn parts of her face. “Oh, what an ugly doll you have,” I said to Sveta with a feeling of my own superiority, feeling that my doll Oksana’s finest hour has come - do you want me to let you play with my new doll? - Well, so what if she’s ugly! My mother sewed it for me...” Sveta answered, hugging her handmade doll even tighter to her. For some reason I remembered this doll Oksana and this story with a handmade and purchased doll, my childhood faux pas, for which I am still ashamed and want to apologize that girl Sveta. This Oksana doll fulfilled its functions: Sveta and I became friends and were close throughout our childhood - Sveta was and is my childhood friend. Periodically returning to this childhood story and rethinking it as I immersed myself in art therapy, I now understand what this doll was for the girl Sveta - we can say that it was a sacred doll, a kind of connection with her mother and the doll is a talisman. Sveta, forgive me! Not everything new, purchased is better and more valuable than things carefully and lovingly made with your own hands! But Do you remember your childhood toys??