In the third of August, at the old antique shop. There lies Miss. Winsberg, frail as can be, sitting on a chair, as she reads her favorite book to pass the time. Very rarely were there any customers, so Mrs. Winsberg uses this time to relax until she’s hungry.   
 Ding chimed the bell of the front door. In stormed a burly mailman, with shaved chin and combed hair.   
‘Greetings Mrs. Winsberg!’ Shouted the mailman.  
Mrs. Winsberg closed her book ‘Oh, Hello John’ She greeted ‘How are you?’  
‘Quite well, if I say so myself’ huffed the mailman ‘Say I got a package for you Miss. Winsburg.’ Said the mailman, as he dug through his delivery bag.  He later pulled out a small, wrinkled parcel and handed it to Miss. Winsberg.  
 
Miss. Winsberg held the parcel in her hands. As the weight of the package sat on her, she felt a soul speaking to her. You see Miss. Winsberg had a peculiar ability, one where she could feel souls from the strangest of places, dolls. Ever since she was four, she can tell what the doll has been through, the sights it saw, the sounds it heard, and everything else between it all. It's the reason why, Miss. Winsberg had a special connection with dolls, one very few would be able to understand.  
 
Her hands creased through the parcel, to feel its story. This soul, like the others before it, had been prodded, kicked, trampled, and pecked. This soul that went through rain, hurricanes, sunshine, and thunderstorms, just like the other dolls everyone would give her. This soul that has traveled through distant lands, some fantastical some not, yet hasn’t been shown the slightest bit of comfort. Just like the dolls in the storage room.  
 
The mailman coughed, ‘I found this one on the ground, while doing my deliveries it looked a bit in bad condition.’ He sighed ‘None of the kids at the playground didn't want it, so I thought I might give it to you, since you had a thing with toys.’  the mailman chuckled, as he leaned to the wall.  ‘So, what did you think of it?’  
 
‘Well, I might have to checked on it, John.’ She murmured ‘After all, this one's souls been through quite enough.’  
 
She didn’t feel like this doll had been torn apart. But she might need to check it in case this one needed a bath first.  
 
The mailman laughed uneasily, ‘Sure whatever you say.’  He cleared his throat and glanced at his watch. ‘Well, I better get going, I have tons of other letters to deliver. See you around, Mrs. Winsburg’ hollered the cheerful mailman, before marching out the front door, and onto the streets.  
 
Ding. The mailman left leaving only Mrs. Winsburg and the doll in the store alone. The elderly lady scrambled to the front desk and grabbed a pair of scissors from the front drawing. She pinched the parcel from the skin, and cautiously cut the package. She was careful enough to not cut the doll, since she would feel pitiful when she gives the doll more pain than it already has.  
 
Snip Snip Snip 
 
The package revealed itself more and more, till Miss. Winsberg could see a small button eye peeking out of the makeshift hole. Miss. Winsberg continued to cut through the package, until the sunlight was shining on the doll's face and arm. Then she gently pinched up the doll by the arm, and slowly removed the doll from the parcel. Now the doll is free, and like a mother to her newborn child, Mirs. Winsberg raised the doll up in the air.  
 
‘By Jove’ Mrs. Winsberg exclaimed ‘You're as fresh as a clover.” she chuckled. For you see, Miss. Winsberg was expecting to find a dirty doll, with cotton leaking from his tiny body, and eyes, arms, and mouth pulled out. Instead, she found a clean ragdoll, with a striped shirt and brown overalls. His yellow yarn hair tightly sewed into him along with a pot made of cloth, that is also tightly sewed into him. Not a lot of holes are found across the doll's body, which keeps the cotton inside of the doll. His little clover patched to the center of his overalls, his button eyes never taken by force, and his carefree painted smile remaining. This doll was the luckiest one Miss. Winsberg had ever met, since the dolls she would usually get were either broken, old, or dirty. So, the sight of the ragdoll is an amusing surprise.  
 
 
‘I bet all the other dolls would be surprised by you. Oh, you’d be the sight for eyes once you entered town.’ cooed the elder. She cuddled the doll as she trotted to the left, passed the big old grandfather clock, and the shelves of China. Until she came, to the back of the wall, she is met with a wooden, and chipped door labeled ‘Storage Area.’. She opened the door and flicked the little light switch next to the door. The room lit up a singular spot, a crafting desk, with scissors, rulers, needles, thread, and buttons all laying around the desk. Beside the desk, there lays a big shelf with papers, fabric, and ribbons from different hues of colors. All the materials were stacked together like a clump of clay, as they waited patiently on the shelf, waiting to be used for the day.  
 
Miss. Winsberg laid the ragdoll in the middle of the desk and rushed to the shelves to get the materials for today. She returned to the desk with a small carboard box and its lid, a shiny green ribbon, and a bright green roll of paper, with a pattern of white clovers all over it. She set the doll on the side of the workbench and started wrapping the box with paper. She took the measurements of the box and cut the paper to the exact measurements. Anytime the paper came out as a perfect square, Miss. Winsberg would tape the paper to the box. Once the paper is stuck to the box, she would repeat the process again, and again until the entire box is covered with green paper.   
 
Once the paper had its use, Miss. Winsberg, picked the doll up and put it in the center of the box. She put the lid on top of the box and pinched the roll of ribbon. Miss. Winsberg waved the ribbon, round and round the box, wrapping it from left to right. After the ribbon was attached to all sides, Miss Winberg delicately pinched the two sides of the ribbons up, and brought them up to the lid, where she knotted and tangled all the sides into a bow, which stood proudly at the top of the box.  
 
A delighted Mrs. Winsberg grabbed the box and scurried from her workshop to the dark. Where she navigated the dark room, as she treks further away from the source of light. As the light faded, she was engulfed by the darkness, yet she calmly strides forward. After walking in the darkness for a while, Miss. Winsberg, fragile ears, picked up a faint joyful tune.  
 
 
It's a Joyful day in Play Town 
Oh, what a fine sunny day it is.  
To go out and about 
Sing a tune. Play a game.  
It's a wonderful sunny day.  
 
It came from the back of the dark room; Mrs. Winsberg wasted no time eagerly following the tune. Knowing she's almost there. As she quickened her pace, the tune sung louder and louder, until a bright piano tune could be heard. Finally, she saw light dawning from the only window of the room illuminating the room just a tiny bit, but mostly shining its glory down to a miniature town.  
 
A town made of blocks, plastic, and wood, which all resemble budlings from shops to clocks large enough to tower over the residents, but small enough for Mrs. Winsberg to tower over it. Each building was colored differently from bright crimson, too somber blue. As they stood firmly as ever. Its residents varied from tall to short, plump and thin, plastic and porcelain, and jolly to grumpy. All the toys shouted in glee as they ran around with joy, worry, business, and strictness, as they treated this day like a fine day.  
 
Mrs. Winsberg smiled at the sight of the cheery little town but turned her attention to the present. Not wanting to disturb the little residents, Mrs. Winsberg scanned the area for the perfect area to lay the new gift.  
 
‘Now where should you be’ she murmured ‘As she searched around for the perfect area. Her eyes landed on numerous pieces of paper, all glued to the floor, with green scribbles drawn on it. A plastic tree stands in the center of it, along with small plastic flowers around the makeshift grass. ‘Ah, perfect!’ Said Mrs. Winsberg.  
 
She carefully tiptoed around the town and made sure that the toys didn't catch a glimpse of her, and as she tiptoed to the meadow, she slowly dropped the box at the meadow. ' Now stay here and wait for the others to find you' She chirped before she silently crept away from the meadow, and the town. And crept away from the storage room.  
 
Leaving a little ragdoll named Lucky to his home at PlayTown.