My father worked in a machine shop when my brother, Phil, and I were little. Well, actually, he worked there his entire working life. But this post is about when Phil and I were little.
Apparently, there was occasionally some spare time in the machine shop, because Dad made things for his children. There was a bracelet for me:
And there was a ring for each of us:
I would guess that my dad probably shouldn't have been doing these sorts of things while at work, unless he was able to do them during breaks and using scrap metal which would have been thrown out anyway. But I've always found it touching that he was thinking of his family and that he crafted these little items himself.
Of course, by the time I became aware of these baby things, I had already outgrown them. But there they were in my mom's little red cardboard jewelry box, keeping The Watch company, and piquing the interest of one little Linda Sue.
A relatively small selection of treasures from that jewelry box still survives, and most of those that I've kept have little monetary value. But, still...they are treasures nonetheless.