I remember with perfect clarity the Christmas that I got a
Samantha doll as a present. I was well acquainted with all of the
American Girls by then, having studied their varied histories and enviously
played with my friends’ Kirstens and Mollys. So when I opened the package and
found Samantha inside, I already knew that she felt suffocated by
her Grandmary’s ideals of what it meant to be “a lady.” I promised to rescue
her from her staid Victorian background.
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