My husband calls her Cho Cho San. Standing in a glass case, elaborately coiffed and gowned, holding her fan and her drum, she has been poised to entertain for over six decades.
Cho Cho San was a gift from a dear friend who also received the doll as a gift in the mid-’50s. About that time, I was a teenage babysitter for a hometown doctor. An identical doll occupied a corner in his living room. One of my favorite things, Cho Cho San provides a pleasant thread of continuity.