This article reprinted with permission from St. Anthony Messenger Magazine.
www.americancatholic.org

      
                                                                    Photos by Randy Davey                                                  
   The cheerful faces on the tiny clothespin dolls don't hint at the tragedy that led to their creation.  Doll maker Rita Chiavacci's eyes still glisten when she mentions her oldest child, Michael, 19, who was killed by a drunk driver in 1978.  She credits her faith in God and St. Ann's comforting presence for helping her through the terrible days following her son's death.

Michael worked as the manager of a movie theater, closing up at night after the crowds left.  As he was driving to meet some friends after work, a Jeep ran a red light and slammed into his Mustang.  Michael, who sustained massive head injuries, died the next morning.  The drunken driver of the other car survived.

Chiavacci fought to keep herself from giving in to despair after Michael's death.  But, no matter how difficult the time was for her personally, she never hated the other driver.  Instead, she allowed God to fill her heart with forgiveness and understanding.

"I felt that there, but for the grace of God, the roles could have been reversed and...someone has to forgive," she says.  She adds that, although the other driver's actions couldn't be taken back, he also had to live with the terrible deed.

"Taking another young life wouldn't accomplish anything.  I didn't want another family to experience what we did," she says.

It was difficult to resume a normal life but she knew she had to find a way.  She still had three other young boys at home: Chris, who was born on St. Ann's day, James and John.

This grieving mother visited her son's grave often, finding her devotion to St. Ann helped relieve the overwhelming pain and sorrow.  But still, the days and years seemed endless and sad.

Looking for something to occupy her hands and heart, she turned to doll making, never imagining one of her creations would lead her to the White House.

White House Invitation

Michaels's grandfather was a local politician.  As a teen, Michael considered following him into politics, perhaps one day reaching the White House.

When Michael died, his mother believed that dream died with him.  A chance meeting with Robert George, who played Santa Claus at the White House from the Eisenhower presidency through the then-current administration of President George H. Bush, led Chiavacci to a rare opportunity to make her son's dream a reality in spirit.

When she asked Robert George if he could help her send a doll she'd made in honor of her son to the White House, he told her he would look into it.

A month later he called her and said, "I have received clearance from the White House.  Send me your doll."

The rag doll was named Mickie Jo, after her son, Michael Joseph. Chiavacci mailed the doll to George along with a letter for First Lady Barbara Bush that explained how the doll came to be.  She told Mrs. Bush that once the doll fulfilled Michael's wish by going to the White House, Mrs. Bush could dispose of "Mickie Jo" by giving it to a hospitalized child.

                                   
    A short time later she received a letter on White House stationery from Barbara Bush.  On the bottom of the typed letter, Mrs. Bush wrote, "Your doll will remain in the White House as a precious reminder of your son."  This letter is one of Chiavacci's most prized possessions.

Barbara Bush's kindness helped Chiavacci find peace within herself.  "But I was never angry with God," she says.  Instead, she accepted her loss, which she calls "God's choice."  She placed her sorrows into the hands of St. Ann, the grandmother of Jesus, and concentrated her energy on living.

"Many people don't understand the saints, but I see it this way: God is my Father, and the saints are like beloved aunt and uncles," she explains. "Sometimes, when I feel I am asking for a huge favor, St. Ann acts as an intercessor for me.  She makes it easier for me to come to God."

Just as St. Ann helped ease her grief when Michael died, Chiavacci believes she interceded once again by bringing her a friend in the form of Valerie Rambach.

Fast Friendship Develops 

Valerie Rambach spent her childhood in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, as the daughter of a prominent physician.  She met Rita Chiavacci in 1991 in Jacksonville, North Carolina, through a mutual friend.  A fast and enduring friendship ensued, despite the difference in the upbringings.

Chiavacci remembered a childhood struggling to make ends meet, while Rambach lived a more affluent life, spending summers at camp and shopping in better stores.  Where Chiavacci grew up staunchly Catholic, attending Mass at a small Polish church on her way to school each morning, Rambach was raised in the Jewish faith.

Chiavacci married a boy from her neighborhood, spent 22 years as a military wife moving from base to base and raised four sons.

Rambach never married, had a career as an X-ray technician and worked for her father in his declining years.  As her parents became aged and ill, she moved into their home to help care for them, with assistance from a nursing staff.

Her father's condition deteriorated to the point that he needed more specialized care, so she place him in a nursing home.  When Rambach's mother was near death, her friend from North Carolina came to Pennsylvania on a bus through an ice storm to offer assistance.

After the funeral, a despairing Rambach asked Chiavacci, "What do I do now?  Where do I go?"

Her friend didn't hesitate before saying, "You are welcome to come with me."

Since there was nothing to hold her back, Rambach packed her bags and traveled to North Carolina with her friend in 1996.  She's lived with Rita and her husband Vaughn, ever since.

The two women say there was no period of adjustment.  Rambach's inclusion in the lives of the Chiavaccis simply felt right to all of them.

Road to Conversion

Rambach quickly settled into her new home, helping Chiavacci with her doll making, a business that has grown beyond their expectations.  But even though Chiavacci is grateful for the help, she's even more thrilled that her friend began to study the Roman Catholic faith and joined the Church.

Rambach says her decision to convert from Judaism came after much thought and prayer on her part, reflecting her belief that she had, in some way finally come home.  "My heart was always Catholic.  I would go to Midnight Mass with friends, and once I moved away from my parents, I never went to temple."

Prior to the death of her mother, this adopted woman overheard her ailing father tell someone that her birthmother was Jewish, but her birthfather was Catholic.  " The pieces suddenly fell into place," recalls the convert.

She realized that she had always been drawn to the Catholic Church without knowing why.  She thinks that, perhaps, her birthfather prayed for her.  Thus, her conversion could be the answer to his prayers.

"I knew it was the right thing to do," she says.  "Rita in no way pressured me.  But I saw how at peace she was. I've been that way since I converted."

Devotion to St. Ann

Both of these women believe St. Ann has helped them make the most of their lives, friendship and talents.

Rita Chiavacci's devotion to the mother of the Blessed Virgin goes back to her childhood, when her father worked the coal mines near Scranton, Pennsylvania.  Her parents, devout Catholic, raised their family near a monastery named for St. Ann. Chiavacci recalls people traveling many miles, some walking all night, to celebrate the saint's feast day.

Today, a basilica stands on the monastery's grounds.  Underneath, mine shafts honeycomb the land.  Years ago, Chiavacci says, one of the shafts began to shift.  "There was a fear the shaft would collapse and take the monastery with it," she explains.  Instead, it stabilized:  The local miners gave credit to St. Ann.

Chiavacci believes that St. Ann has bestowed many of the blessings she's received in life and that the saint has guided and watched over her through both good times and bad.  She believes this saint guided her into doll making.

But it took her a while to realize that what seemed like simple therapy using her God-given abilities could lead to a profitable, home based business.

She has been making dolls for many years.  In the mid-80"s she changed her focus from rag dolls to clothespin dolls.  The new dolls, constructed of one-piece wooden clothespins, were tiny clown, ballerinas, brides and even character from The Wizard of Oz.  A friend suggested she sell the dolls at craft shows.

Chiavacci packed up some of her stock and took them to a craft show, discovering in the process that people loved the tiny dolls.  Many started collecting them.

Although Vaughn accompanied her when she exhibited, he didn't enjoy the excursions.  "The people next to us would start a pool on how long it would take him to to to sleep and fall off his chair," she recalls with a laugh.

Those early clothespin dolls were simple.  Over the years, though, both the dolls and the business became more complex. Chiavacci participated in more and more craft shows. 

When Rambach move in, she started accompanying Chiavacci to the craft show, which meant that Vaughn could stay home.  It was an arrangement that suited everyone.

Competitive Business

Today, the two friends carefully craft the tiny dolls in a workshop and office located in the Chiavacci's spacious home.  Each clothespin dolls face is hand-painted, with hair crafted from yarn or other materials.

Rambach serves as the hairstylist.  Pipe-cleaner arms and a round wooden base finish the dolls.  The women fashion clothes--made of real material--from patterns they guard as  carefully as some top restaurants do their prize recipes.  The clothespin-doll business can be competitive.  They add new dolls as they develop them.

                                

Some of the newer dolls range from St. Ann and other religious figures to red-hatted ladies.  Other categories include soccer players, soldiers and favorite characters from timeless literature, such as Louisa May Alcott's Little Women.  But the runaway best sellers are cheerleader dolls, confirms Chiavacci.  The Nativity scene, replete with clothespin animals, is also very popular.  And the Wizard of Oz series is sold as a set or individual pieces.

Making the dolls is time-consuming.  The women craft between 180 and 320 of the clothespin dolls a month, sold at prices ranging from $5.00 to $10.50.  The also make custom creations upon request, which appear on the the tops of cakes and as special gifts. 

Although doll making has become a lucrative enterprise for these women.  It's more than a business.  Chiavacci believes God guides her hands; the clothespins symbolize the cleansing process following life's trials.

"They are what we use to hang clean clothes out when we've finished the laundry," Chiavacci says.  "These clothespins are like a final cleansing of my sorrow."

Bound by Faith

Chiavacci believes St. Ann has guided her gently through life and influenced her friend's decision to convert.  There are many Anns in the lives of these women.  For example, Rambach's middle name is Ann.  Chiavacci's mother and beloved sister are also named Ann.  She believes the name acts as a spiritual marker illuminating the path she should take.

The lifelong Catholic says her faith has been the most important thing in her life.  She believes her heavenly Father is with her at all time, loving her like the daughter of Christ that she is.

She knows she's been blessed immeasurably through her devotion to the Church.  She believes she was meant to marry Vaughn, who converted to Catholicism prior to their meeting.  This loving mother cherished her son Michael as long as he was on this earth and her surviving sons have grown up to become blessings in her life.

She knows firsthand the meaning of the following words from the First Letter of Peter: "In this you rejoice, although now for a little while you may have to suffer through various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold that is perishable even though tested by fire, may prove to be for praise, glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ" (1:6-7).

Chiavacci thanks God for her talent, which allows her to create dolls that bring joy to others as well as provide her with self-fulfillment.  And she believes that God brought Valerie Rambach to her and led her friend to become a Christian.

Although their worlds were quite dissimilar, Chiavacci says, "Underneath it all, we are more alike than we are different."

Rambach smiles and agrees: "We like to say we are truly soul sisters."  Closer than flesh and blood, they are bound together by their faith.
                                                        ...... by Carole Moore

Carole Moore is a freelance writer who lives in Jacksonville, North Carolina.  The former police officer has lived in Japan and traveled frequently to Europe and the Middle East.

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