My great grandmother received the dollhouse (玩具小屋) from a family friend back in the late 1800s. It was then passed down from generation to generation. I was seven when I discovered it underneath the tree on Christmas morning.
In our house, Mom set up a sewing area. I sat at her sewing machine, my feet barely reaching the presser foot. Mom bent over me, her hands on mine, gently guiding small bits of cloth under the needle to create dollhouse bedding. She also taught me to make mini-blankets. With a little paint and glue, Mom demonstrated that anything could be turned into dollhouse furniture. I learnt to view the world as a place of possibility. I spent hours of my girlhood sitting before my dollhouse, telling made-up stories, and creating miniatures (缩微模型). But eventually school activities took over, and the dollhouse was moved to the attic (阁楼).
Over the next 40 years, the storytelling skills I’d practiced with the dollhouse grew into novel writing skills, and I developed a career as an author. One day, after hours of working on my fourth book, I took a break by surfing the Internet and happened to notice the beautiful dollhouses people posted on social media. They reminded me of mine. I went to the attic, brought it back to my room and started updating it.
During the mindless hours of sewing and furnishing (布置家具), I listened to audiobooks about the history of dollhouses, learning that they were not invented for play. There’s a long, rich history of people in hardship turning to dollhouses to find comfort. They weren’t produced as toys until mass production became standard after 1945. This inspired me to create a novel where art saves the day.
The truth was I myself needed art to save the day. Mom was then slipping away from me owing to progressive memory loss. The only topic we could discuss with any genuine joy was the update of the dollhouse. She loved retelling its history — those old memories. Mom didn’t find it strange at all that her 50-year-old daughter was updating the dollhouse. She just thought it fun and beautiful. And it was. It was a world where Mom and I were at our best together.

What did the author learn about dollhouses from the audiobooks?