The Dec. 7 Nevada Appeal ran a cartoon by Stahler depicting a little boy asking his mother, "How can there be more than one Santa?"
She replied, "Cloning, dear." It brought back my childhood holiday memories of the year 1930 in Butte, Mont.
Times were bleak as the Great Depression came upon us. Life was difficult for my mother, as my father had deserted us, and Christmas was not ever mentioned.
One cold afternoon in December, mother and I were walking downtown when we came upon a thin man in a red suit and white whiskers, ringing a bell. Mother called him Santa Claus. I took one look at him and started to bawl.
For all I knew, he could have been an alien from outer space in a red suit. He looked formidable and he scared me. Mom got me calmed down and we proceeded on down the street. Lo, we came upon another red-suited person who proclaimed to be Santa too. And so it went, several corners, several Santas.
A few years later, I started school. Times were still bad, money was scarce and unemployment rampant. Christmas was not a happy time for most. I so wanted a doll. Under the tree was a package from my mom. I squeezed it and squeezed it in anticipation of a doll or teddy bear.
I was heartsick Christmas morning to find the package contained a pair of mittens-on-a-string, not a doll. Mom said I was always losing my mittens. I did get one more gift, though, from my grandmother, that cheered me up, a set of water colors and a coloring book. Even very young, I loved to paint and do artsy things.
Christmas vacation over, I returned to school. Teachers were lucky to be among the few people employed during those hard times. I remember the teacher asking us to tell what we had received for Christmas. I told of my mittens and paints.
Then the boy sitting at the desk in front of me said he had received "nothin'." I felt so sorry for him and I decided to share one of my gifts. The next day I gave him my coloring book. I wasn't about to part with my paints, but I felt good about sharing and he felt good about receiving something.
That day stood out in my young memory as I felt so bad that just about all the students, most dressed in tattered overalls and my best friend in a flour sack dress, had a very sad Christmas. Considering the grim Depression times, I thought the teacher should never have asked her students what they had received for Christmas.
Many Christmases have passed since the sad Great Depression. As I look back, I can see why my mom was so practical. I didn't get a doll until I was 12 years old. Now I have many dolls and stuffed animals. I'm still a kid at heart, I guess. I did lose my mittens, and I still do. The paints from my grandma awakened my interest in art and painting, which I still love.
When I saw the Dec. 7 cartoon in the Nevada Appeal, it sparked my memories of that afternoon in 1930 and the encountering of many Santas on the street corners of Butte, Mont. As Stahler's cartoon suggested, perhaps the Santas were cloned -- but 71 years ago? Why, cloning hadn't even been invented yet.
Iris Forster is a retired secretary and has lived in Carson City for 15 years. She enjoys arts and crafts and has painted sets for the Senior Follies.
