Dolly

I’ve heard so many kids who grew up with Dolly’s Imagination Library talk about how it felt like Dolly herself was sending them a gift in the mail every month. I had a similar feeling as a new mom.
Postpartum was, for me, dark and desperate. It was brutally isolating even before the pandemic, which hit right as our babies turned 1.

I’ve shared before that those months were pure survival. By now, it’s all a blur, except for a handful of nights before bed when we all read a new book from Dolly together, and I was able to find myself again for a minute.

Those stories were a thread of connection to the outside. They were a tangible kindness. And they gave me the ability, in my brain-dead state, to light up the world for us a little.

Whenever a child ages out of the program, Dolly sends a letter that starts with, “My, how time flies. It seems it was only yesterday when your family and friends read you your first story. You were just a baby,” and ends with “I will Always Love you.”

Dolly’s always been a North Star for how I try to represent and show up for Appalachia, and I’m sure she’ll continue to shine brightly in that way as a folk saint.

(If you’re looking for a Dolly 7-day, you can make your own wrap using printable vellum paper and a plain pillar candle.)