Creativity · Self

Annie

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I don’t remember being Annie for Halloween. Was I? If not, I should have done it. It was my favorite musical. It still is my favorite musical. It was such an important part of my life. I have written about the movie version of the musical before. I just love it! I see this figurine in my box of pencils, pens, and other implements of creation in my drawer by my bed. It has travelled from my previous house to the intermediary housing and finally to this home. I remember the play set this plastic Annie came with: Daddy Warbucks’ car. Warbucks in the movie had many cars, but this toy reproduction was a blue, plastic convertible from the 1930s. I remember playing with it on the rug in the basement of my previous home and zooming it about the living room, too. I believe there was a Daddy Warbucks figure and even a Punjab. I guess the rest of the set went to live the next stage of its toy life. Annie, closest to my heart, survived. Luck?
Divine intervention, perhaps? Or passion for a story about a little girl who was left behind, but soon discovered what it was to be loved and provided for, felt by another girl searching for love and acceptance every day.

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