When I was in kindergarten in 1967, my teacher, Mrs. Bartel, gave us each a Christmas ornament. It was nothing fancy: a small felt snowman cut with pinking shears and stitched with love. For years he hung on our family Christmas tree - the first ornament I had that was exclusively mine.
Every year I get him out along with all of the lovely things I have collected over the years. His smile is faded now through all the handling of the past forty-one years. But he is a sweet reminder of a simpler time, when a kindergarten teacher could still kiss you on the cheek each day, and a child could marvel in a handmade gift of felt and love.