Calico Angel… the mistress of stitching, patching was handy with needle and thread, so everyone said… The little Rag Doll hit the corner wall with a thud, slid crazily, landed in a crumpled heap, strands of red yarn hair flying here and there. Bent forward at the waist a shocked expression on her face one button eye knocked loose. Down the middle of her chest once sewn with loving care, a gaping hole, ripped wide exposes shredded insides. Gentle hands once held her close to heart and shoulder, spoke loving words, kissed away the hurt; now she mutely lies bruised and wounded, no one by her side… Only the Calico Angel knows her deepest secrets, can repatch her heart. Only the Calico Angel watching from above can catch her tears. ---written by Kathleen | 
