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Teapots for Mom, mugs for Dad

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While teaching in an isolated Alaskan village without television’s suggestive commercials and few available items in the one general store (reminiscent of Olson’s Mercantile in “Little House on the Prairie”), parent gifts were a problem.
My artistic husband located clay suitable for his kiln. Traveling by small riverboats on a field trip, he and his older students dug and stockpiled native clay. He made molds of my cups and mugs, which his students poured and fired, achieving rough vessels. They smoothed coarse edges and applied color before a second firing and were astonished. “Cups like from the store, only better!” they beamed. All this in secrecy. No one must spoil the special surprises.

Successful and proud, they shared their new skills with other classes. Most were siblings, therefore their homes received several crafted items.

On the proud day, 40 “teapots for moms” and “mugs for dads” went home to squeals of “Ha-zah, look at mine!” and “Ee-lie, it’s so pretty.” Other parent reactions were, “You made it? No. You couldn’t make it. You lie.” Translation of “Eskimoese”: “You’re joking.”

Linda Edwards, Morganton, Rutherford

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