The Caroler Dolls
A Christmas story….
Years ago, a close friend of my in-house, licensed sous chef, gave us a set of three caroler dolls. I loved them. So seasonal, so ‘Christmasy.’ Their beauty seemed to encapsulate the spirit of the season perfectly. I suggested to the sous chef that we try making some models ourselves and give them away as gifts. The idea became our Christmas project, a family affair, as we recruited more and more family and friends into our caroler-making task.
Two years to completion, one component proved was a serious challenge to find. We were forced to compromise our models somewhat. But I jump ahead of myself.
First, we began by dissecting and analyzing how the dolls were constructed. Tipping the doll back, we discovered the body consisted of a 4 X 4 block of wood. Easy peasy! But the head, a smoothly rounded block of wood was more difficult. I would not be able to make such a thing but surely any lumber company or home reno store would stock something like that. Our search began and a year later, all we had were dolls, headless. Eventually, we compromised on a solution, fence post tops. They did the job, a bit smaller in diameter, perhaps indicative of Polish cerebral diameters, but smaller would do.
My father-in-law, bless his soul, cut the 4 X 4 blocks for us. Sadly, he never lived long enough to see the finished dolls. My mother-in-law was given the most challenging aspect of costuming the dolls, creating the dresses, the bodices, and the encompassing lacework. The sous chef was project coordinator, parts transporter, and detail painter. A teacher colleague who taught woodwork was recruited for cutting out the “head hats.” My tasks ranged from “hair” pieces to base painting, feet making, and final assembly. Once all the components were found and collected, final assembly was completed within a couple of days.
My mother-in-law seamstress skills required a number of fittings but that gave me time to attach the base components to the 4 X 4 bodies, the heads and the feet. Then the skull dome, the lower body and the ‘feet’ were painted black. The dolls looked like little yamalka-wearing Jewish wooden people standing there side by side, on my workshop table. Next, small mops were cut and trimmed for the hair and glued as fringed rims around each bare skull. Finally, the wooden ‘donuts,’ the hats’ brims, were painted and glued to complete the hat construction. The wooden statues now began to look like faceless, undressed dolls, somewhat emaciated as the plain, square wooden bodies had no real shape.
Next, a trip to an art store was necessitated for the heavy parchment-like paper to form the ‘carolling books’ for the sheet music. The sheet music was an internet find, copied, printed and glued as an insert into each carol book.
Once the dresses were completed, each doll got ‘her’ own custom dress trimmings, lace, ribbon and ‘hands.’ The arms and ‘hands’ were made and covered with shawls of material complementing the colour of the individual dress. I got more and more excited about the beauty and symbolic splendour of the dolls as they neared completion.
Christmas makes me cry!
I get carried away with emotion when I work with things relating to Christmas, be it gifts, food, or projects such as this. I will be a kid forever when it comes to Christmas and am always very disappointed when I see other adults who don’t seem to feel the same way. For me, Christmas is a very special time, and not just for kids but for everyone. It must be the romance in my soul that can bring me to the brink of tears as I listen to Polish carolling. I was very young when I heard Polish Christmas carols but they were very special to me for, in the Polish tradition, carollers used to the house to sing carols in the home. In Sault Ste. Marie, where I was raised, these visiting carollers had to be really well bundled to withstand the bitterness of the northern Ontario winter night. My father always bolstered the carollers’ cold weather defences with numerous shots of whiskey. Dad claimed, “it’s a very effective defence against the cold.”. The carollers never disputed dad’s claim and very willingly tested his advice. Depending on where we were on the carollers’ house visits list, the defensive spirits could make the carollers sing louder with much more gusto, depending on the lateness of the evening. But their carols were still wonderful to hear and later in life, whenever I attended a Polish church midnight mass and heard the carols sung, I would always begin to cry a little. It was wonderful. But again I digress!
No noses, but definitely mouths
Our caroling dolls were finally dressed, trimmed, got their song books, had their hats attached and then came the final step, painting their faces. The eyes were easy, no nose was really needed, but the mouth was a challenge. No smile would work, a little black oval did. It seemed to represent a singer quietly humming out a Christmas hymn. Each doll got its eye painted along with its singing oval!
Once all the dolls were completed, painted and standing, a miniature choir, I decided we needed group photos. We tried posing them on the workshop table. Ok. Then with a tablecloth backdrop. Better. Next, with some poinsettias plants. Even better, but still not just right. We tried decreasing the group to pairs. Better again, but still not it. Finally, when we moved the group to a staircase, added the poinsettias, oh, oh, oh…or should I say, ho, ho, ho…perfect!
Losing our wooden family
It was bittersweet to give away the dolls as Christmas gifts, almost like giving away a family pet. We could never give Fermo away. Yet, it also felt very joyous to give these unique gifts to special people, to family and to friends. Now, when we visit, it is impossible to describe the heart-warming feelings the sous chef and I feel when we see our Christmas carolers on display in some special place in each of their newly adopted homes.
Merry Christmas everyone!
