Doris

Doris was born in the worst snow storm I can remember. It was freezing and the snow seemed like it would never stop. Dad was called out to work to shovel the trolley tracks. When this happened--he went- even if it was 3 am, as it often was. He worked for the Philadelphia Transportation Co., thus the call. My sister Dolly and I are sixteen months apart. Mary and Sissy were six years older than we were. Mary was seven years older, Charley six years older and Sissy five years older. So we seemed to be worlds apart. Dolly and I were like twins, doing everything together. We knew Doris might be coming. We believed Mom when she said the angels were thinking about bringing a new baby, or the stork story, something like that. At any rate, she seemed to grow very fat and Dolly and I talked about it in code. We were not allowed to ask questions but we did wonder when Aunt Nellie, mom’s sister, arrived on Thursday with a huge bag of blankets, diapers and tiny small shirts and socks. We thought she brought them for our dolls. She pretended we were right and we watched the huge bag sit in the corner for four days wanting to open it and play dolls. She said no, that we had to wait for Christmas. Or perhaps they were for the new baby that the angels might drop in with. We sat and watched that bag thirstily, whispering to each other on how we could get to it and play awhile, but we were afraid we might get caught. Getting caught by Grace Coll O’Malley was not something to look forward to – she was very strict. Often we waited till Dad came home. He was a push-over and we knew he always protected us from the punishment of Mom. Then one snowy night, Mom went to her room and didn’t come out. Dolly and I were bundled up and carried by our father down the street in the snow to Mrs. Clayton’s house where we stayed for a day or two. When we returned, I remember running up the stairs looking for Mom. Dolly was there. We stood in the darkened hallway, as a very tall man came up the stairs nearly behind us. We watched as the back of his suit, and the top of his dark brown, graying hair entered Mom’s room. He turned and smiled, shooing us away as he closed the door. Silence could be heard throughout the house like never before. Mary and Sissy and Charley were trying to entertain us and Dad did his famous tricks with the phonograph machine as Irish songs played throughout the house. At one o’clock that night, the big man in the suit opened the door and let us into Mom’s room. Mary, Sissy and Charley went in. Dolly and I were allowed in last. Actually, I was the youngest then, so I was last. I remember walking up to the bed, glad that mom was there and seeing her smile. I thought she had gone away somewhere because it was all so strange. “Come on in, Helen,” she said. “Come here and see what I have here in my arms.” I walked up to her and in her arms nestled a bald baby head but with whispy, blonde hairs upon closer inspection. Her face was beautiful; white, with eyes closed. Her fists were tightly closed and I reached out to unclench them, but couldn’t. They kept going back into the tightened closed position. Mom laughed and Dolly and I were befuddled at our new toy, whose fists would not open and stayed that way. We asked Mom “Who is she? Why doesn’t she have any hair? Why are her hands like that, with her fists closed all the time?” She laughed and said: “She’s your new sister. Remember the angels I told you about? Well, they came last night and today, March 7, 1941, she was given to us by God, sent down in the huge storm to be ours.” “Is she real?” By now the whole family and the doctor were laughing at the whole scene as they watched me and my sister try hard to open the tiny hands of Doris O’Malley, our new baby sister, who looked more like a small doll than anything else. Enter Doris. Now we are six children. Five girls and one son of John and Grace Coll O’Malley.