This picture was taken in the hot summer of 1994 in a small house, in a small town, in the Eastern part of Germany. The dollhouse on the background belonged to the girl on the left. Sandra. Her daddy made it for her. She had always wanted a dollhouse, but they couldn’t afford it. The girl on the right is me. I also had a dollhouse, but mine wasn’t made by my daddy but by a Swedish toy company. And it was this company that brought us little girls together.
In this brochure the company gave kids an opportunity to find a pen pall. All you needed to do was write a letter to the company and they would find you a match. Apparently they thought Sandra and I had to meet. I got the brochure with the dollhouse, she got the brochure in a store, eyeing the dollhouse.
The world around us seemed to differ so much, but at that age it didn’t matter. Over the years we’ve visited each other several times. Our moms started writing to each other too, and still do. Sandra and I grew apart, we never write anymore, not even a text message. I’m not sure what went wrong. All I know is that it makes me sad.
The world we live in now is so much more alike then ten years ago. Yet, our lives seem to differ so much that even a dollhouse can’t bring us closer anymore.
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