Deborah Mount

My doll story, when I was a child, still gripes me when I think of it.

Mercy, did I love that doll, "Tiny Tears"... not the one with the wig, but the smooth headed sweetheart. I really don't remember when I got her, maybe 1958, but I asked Santa for a second Tiny Tears.

You are not going to believe what Santa did. When he read my letter asking for another Tiny Tears... he left me a note saying "You already have one."

I have never forgiven him for that.

I kept the one I did have all those years, and when I set up my own home and got our first puppie he chewed the body off her...ahhh, I still had the head which I put on a close match to her body.

As time went on I saw one for sale in a classified newspaper ad and demanded to be taken to get her in another town... ( I could not drive my better half's stick shift.)... then all restraints were off. Whenever I found one, by serendipity or on purpose, I snatched her up.

Even the Danbury Mint's porcelain one.

I will never get enough of her... nope, Santa, I won't be pratical when it comes to Tiny Tears.