Look Into My Eyes

The eyes are the windows to the soul.
I do believe that’s true.
I was looking at the antique Raggedy Ann doll that sits in her own chair in my foyer.
I was remembering.

Raggedy Ann was my favorite doll when I was a girl.
There was something so special about her little heart.
That hidden heart upon which was written, I love you.
Every other Raggedy Ann doll had the same message but I knew it was there for me.

Her black button eyes, her triangle nose.
Her calico dress, her white apron, her striped stockings were simply perfect.
She sat in a special place on my bed.
There she waited for me to come home from school, waited for me to tell her secrets.

Her red yarn hair couldn’t be combed yet it seemed to curl just right around her face.
When I learned to tie my shoes, Raggedy’s apron was the next thing I tied successfully.
My aunt even bought me a set of books which included the Raggedy Ann stories.
One story about the dolls coming alive in the nursery at night was my favorite.

The Raggedy Ann doll was created after American writer, Johnny Gruelle, wrote about her.
Gruelle created the doll for his daughter, Marcella in 1915.
She brought an old rag doll to her father and he drew a face on it.
He combined names from two poems, The Raggedy Man and Little Orphan Annie.
Raggedy Ann was born.

Marcella died at age 13 after being vaccinated for smallpox at school.
She was vaccinated without her parents’ consent.
Her cause of death was listed as a heart defect, but Marcella’s parents thought otherwise.
They were sure it was because of the vaccination, which her father opposed.
The Raggedy Ann doll became the symbol for the anti-vaccination movement at that time.

I loved my Raggedy Ann doll so much that I asked to dress as her for Halloween.
My mother and I went out to get a Raggedy Ann costume.
At the time, FAO Schwartz had a store outside of Philadelphia.
We found a Raggedy Ann costume there.

That was also the year I had my first Halloween party.
Many of my little girlfriends from school were invited.
It was my mother’s idea for me to go out another door and come around front.
She suggested I knock on the front door like everyone else.

Everyone was to keep their mask on until we guessed their identity.
I couldn’t fool anyone.
Even though the cloth mask fit over my head completely, my eyes were visible.
Everyone knew me by my eyes.

Even when we actually went trick or treating, people always guessed.
I used to get so frustrated.
My eyes gave me away!
Always.

It wasn’t until years later, that I realized how glad I am about that.
My eyes give me away.
Hopefully, they are my Father’s eyes.

Since I was adopted, I don’t know whose eyes I actually have.
Since becoming a believer in Jesus Christ, I do indeed have my Father’s eyes.

I sought the Lord, and He answered me; He delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to Him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame. (Psalm 34:4,5)

The commands of the Lord are radiant, giving light to the eyes. (Psalm 19:8)

My Father’s eyes.
Radiant.
Loving.
Windows to my soul.

I want people to see Him in me.
I want people to look in my eyes and see the love of Jesus.
I want to have my Father’s eyes.

There is a difference.
Eyes that do not know Jesus are lifeless.
Eyes that do not know Jesus have no joy.
Eyes that do not know Jesus do not reflect His Light.

I may not be every mother’s dream for her little girl,
And my face may not grace the mind of everyone in the world.
But that’s all right, as long as I can have one wish I pray.
When people look inside my life, I want to hear them say,
She’s got her Father’s eyes,
Her Father’s eyes;
Eyes that find the good in things,
When good is not around;
Eyes that find the source of help,
When help just can’t be found;
Eyes full of compassion,
Seeing every pain;
Knowing what you’re going through,
And feeling it the same.
Just like my Father’s eyes…
And on that day when we will pay for all the deeds we have done,
Good and bad they’ll all be had to see for everyone.
And when you’re called to stand and tell just what You saw in me,
More than anything I know, I want Your words to be,
She had her Father’s eyes.
Her Father’s eyes.
Eyes that found the good in things,
When good was not around;
Eyes that found the source of help,
When help would not be found;
Eyes full of compassion,
Seeing every pain;
Knowing what you’re going through,
And feeling it the same.
Just like my Father’s eyes...

(Father’s Eyes by Gary Chapman; sung by Amy Grant)

I want to have my Father’s eyes.
I want that to define me.
I want people to look into my eyes and see Him.
Such a good way to be known.

2 responses to “Look Into My Eyes”

1. Love that one!

   Reply

   • Janna,
     I’m glad. I miss you, friend.
     Gina

     Reply