The Toys

What happens to the toys when the day is done, and our little treasures are tucked up in bed fast asleep: dreaming of a day spent jumping, laughing, shrieking and playing...

As a child, Mama and my little sister were always reminded that toys had a soul; each doll, bear or panda had its own special personality and feelings, and was therefore to be looked after and treated with love and care.

When the clock strikes 7 O'clock and Lucy and Izzy climb the stairs to bed, a strange stillness and (often welcome) quiet descends upon the Doll House; all of the toys which spent the day being flung about, hugged, cuddled and dropped in the snow are suddenly still: resting wherever they were last dropped.

I still wonder whether they creep out of their toy-box at the hour of midnight: congregating for mischief and tea-parties whilst the rest of the house sleeps...

Who knows; their smiles reveal nothing...