I had so much fun knitting up our Christmas stocking doll family, I knew that I would probably make a family for tilly tilda too.
There is a wonderful satisfaction in knitting for small wee people and dolls!
Creating something that is the same as a large version yet dimensionally smaller has a kind of magic about it that I'll probably never get over!
I love Mama dolls rosy cheeks (she is "very fond of walking" as Elizabeth Bennet would say!)
She also has her own wee little yarn basket with her very own ball of hand spun merino yarn. Mama doll loves to knit, of course!
Little brother is very playful, but has a sensitive heart and a deep connection to animals!
Big Sis is a tomboy. Her favourite colour is lilac and she loves to read adventure books.
It's funny how dolls come alive as they are being created. Their personalities come through their cloth until they are probably as vivid to a doll maker as a character in a book is to an author.
Here is a fragment that grabbed my attention last night.... Warning, some spoilers ahead!...
Silas, as a character, is a lonely being without connection or kin. As his stash of gold coins increases by the hearth, the vitality of his life is reduced to the purpose of simple amassing more
“He seemed to weave, like the spider, from pure impulse, without reflection. Every man's work, pursued steadily, tends in this way to become an end in itself, and so to bridge over the loveless chasms of life. Silas's hand satisfied itself with throwing the shuttle, and his eye with seeing the little squares in the cloth complete themselves under his effort. Then there were the calls of hunger; and Silas, in his solitude, had to provide his own breakfast, dinner, and supper, to fetch his own water from the well, and put his own kettle on the fire; and all these immediate promptings helped, along with the weaving, to reduce his life to the unquestioning activity of a spinning insect."
Yet from this exhausted, solitary, narrow, mire springs fresh a new being... a little girl, and orphan child that has been led by the hand of heaven, it seems, to Silas Marner's door ...
“In old days there were angels who came and took men by the hand and led them away from the city of destruction. We see no white-winged angels now. But yet men are led away from threatening destruction: a hand is put into theirs, which leads them forth gently towards a calm and bright land, so that they look no more backward; and the hand may be a little child's.”
Maybe angels come in the guise of people sometimes. I have found this to be true in my own life.