Granada Pioneer, Vol. II, No. 18

              Page 12_____________________NEW YEAR EDITION______________December  31,   1943
   1944  BRINGS  PROMISES  OF BETTER THINGS
   The especial significance of this new Year is that, more than any other such
anniversary which many of us have celebrated, it brings with it promises of better
things for people of goodwill.
   May I join with the residents of Amache in sharing our wishes for fulfillment
of those prospects in 1944.
H. F. Halliday
                                        Assistant Project Director
ALL  IN  A  DAY’S  WORK
 "'Twas before Christmas and all thru
the day,
  We went trodding and ‘clicking’ down
Santa’s way.”  And speaking of trodding
and clicking, let me tell you a story---
   People seem to think that taking pic-
tures is a "snap"-but far from it.   Now,
take the case of Tom Parker and Hikaru
Iwasaki, photographers of the Denver WRA
office, who spent a very hectic day here
just to got a few pictures of children
receiving gifts from Santa Clans. (In
this instance the Santa happened to be
the chief steward of 7H mess hall, who
was pinch-hitting for Kris Kringle.)
   Amidst  the scene of green and red
trimmings,with sprinklings of poinsettias
decorating the hall with artistic hue,
stood the gay Christmas tree.With colored
lights, glass balls, tinsels and snow-
like trimmings, the  tree was really a
treat  to the  eyes (thanks to artistic
Biz Fukuda). And to complete the picture 
was the quaint old-fashioned fireplace. 
   The  scene was all set for the coming
of Santa Claus  so Mr. McClelland and  I 
gathered several  little children and
seated then around the tree.  Then the
photographers got all set to take some
photos of the children receiving their
gifts from the man who comes around once
a year spreading good cheer. "Oh boy,
what a set-up", said the cameraman. Then
with a thud and a bump Old Santa Claus
appeared in all his splendor and awaited
the shout of children’s glee.  But wait--
something's wrong-they all started to
cry    for    their    mothers, all except one
nine-month  old tot who sat there laughing
not    knowing what  was   taking place.  But
for     the  rest  Old Santa   in his Christmas
best,  with  his  whiskers  too, was not the
bringer of glad tidings but a bogey man.
And to the woe of Mr. Parker who was all
set to click the shutter the children
walked away weeping.
   Mr.Parker was beginning to get frantic ,
no children no picture.But Mr. McClelland
and I did our day's good deed by recruit- 
ing some little school children who knew 
and loved Santa and further more liked 
gifts. So Mr. Parker got his picture, 
the children got their presents,and poor  
Santa regained, his reputation that was
seriously threatened. And thus this
episode  ended  happily.
   What    a  day!  Making faces to attract
the children's attention to the camera,
chasing tots up and down the room--oh well,
it's  all   in a  day's   work.   -Henry Kusaba
	MINNEAPOLIS  LIFE
  	(Random Thoughts About Our Nisei,
   	Convocations and Fortune Tellers.)
   One Saturday evening I wandered into
The  YWCA and found it swarming with sol-
diers. This seemed rather queer for
this feminine institution, so I investi-
gated. They were the Japanese Americans
from Camp Savage who, it seems, have
dancing and games every Saturday night
at the Y. They looked a little lonely,
for there were  many more men than girls,
and rows of them sat around the walls of
Benton hall forlornly waiting for partners.
   I was told, however, that this situa-
tion was improved a little later in the
evening when some of the club girls from
the YWCA came, together with a goodly
number of the fine Japanese girls of the
city.  I watched those American daughters
of Japan as they came in; they looked
like flowers, they were so lovely.   They
came laughing and chattering upon the
arms of their Nisei companions.
   I talked with one of the boys.  He
had been in Minneapolis onlv two weeks.
His home was in Hawaii, and he was very
lonely and cold young man.  I mean  liter-
ally cold.
   He   had  never  been in such a   cold  place
before in his life and all his dreams
were of the time he could get back to 
Hawaii to the warm sunshine and flowers.
 And friends. "Everybody's friendly
there,” he  said.     ''We go   to  parties  and
we dance with everybody-Chinese, Japa-
nese, white people.  We’re all friends.”
   He  had been transferred here from a
southern camp and, in spite of the cold,
he  like us here in Minneapolis.  Just
because of those  YWCA  parties.  “You
know this is the only place we can go, 
except to shows,” he said a little wist-
fully.  “We’re not invited into homes and
we don’t know anybody.”
   All this set me thinking upon the
problems of minority groups.  We’re so
smug and complacent-most of us who be-
long to the majority.  We build little
walls about our family, about our own
particular group, and we peer over those
walls with curiosity, tolerance, or con-
tempt, according to our temperaments.
   Rarely do we trouble to reach across
the barriers of race, or class, forget-
ting that we're all in this human adven-
ture together.  More power to the YWCA
for  remembering!
    --Elizabeth MacKaye,   in the
    Minneapolis  Shopping News -