Through the Magic Door

Water Rat from Wind in the Willows is right, "There is nothing - absolutely NOTHING -- half so much worth doing as simply messing-about in boats." But it is a close run contest when it comes to building things and I think as adults, particularly for those of us living in cities, pursuing professional careers, seeing all our time sliding away into commitments to be here, attend that meeting, take the kids over there, etc. we tend to forget the simple pleasure of building something.

But it is not lost on children. It is most startling how resourceful they can be in finding things to make out of the simplest of ingredients when the circumstances are favorable and the spirit moves them. I recall how once - I was so impressed - on investigating my eight year old son who had been suspiciously quiet for some hours, walking into his room and finding that he had built a life size figure of a robot from note paper, string and cellotape. He was six feet tall, had articulated joints, moving fingers, everything. Wow!

And I certainly remember the hours I spent as a child in all sorts of building activities ranging from putting together puzzles, to building plastic models, to constructing a tree-house. I was fortunate in that my father was of that generation when most people were not long removed from the farm, that incubator of wide-ranging skills. He was a young engineer, rising in his profession, living and raising his family in difficult circumstances in the developing world. And in the midst of all the obligations arising from those circumstances, I recall his always making a point of having me as his helper whenever we had to do repairs around the house. These repairs might be as simple as changing some light bulbs, or as complex as rerouting plumbing in the house. Living in the developing world, for most things, if it was to be done at all it was you that had to do it.

While I would most certainly not hold myself out to be a gifted handyman, I find that there are many things I can still do that I might not have done in years simply by recollecting those chores and tasks undertaken with my father. Hearing his patient explanation of the outcome we were trying to achieve, the tools and materials we needed, the steps in the process, how long each might take, what might go wrong and for which we needed to be prepared and then the actual work itself. There was the rhythm of the saw and the soft smell of cut wood, the tang of cut steel, the sharp smell of creosote, the vibration of the electric drill. And my amazement at how, having tightened a screw to the extent achievable with my six or eight year old arms, then seeing my father then snug it down with two or three more effortless twists.

Making and building things is an education in itself that you then find yourself using in all other walks of life. There are all sorts of adages you absorb (ex. Take your time; Measure twice, cut once; Always use the right tool for the job) that you then later find equally applicable to many other circumstances. Nothing teaches you to maintain your focus quite like working with tools where lack of attention can have consequences beyond just being fussed at.

At some point I took up whittling and made all sorts of things, wooden snakes, slingshots, even a balsa wood guillotine. I don't know what it was I was making one afternoon sitting on my bed carefully cutting a piece of wood (always cut away from you; carry sharp objects pointed downwards; don't run with sharp objects), using a scalpel for my whittling knife. OK, that was the first rule broken. But at least I was cutting away from myself. Anyway, something distracted me and my eyes were averted just at the point when I was applying extra pressure to the scalpel to overcome some flaw or knot in the wood. Too much pressure as it turned out, and the scalpel overshot the point of resistance and plunged into my thigh.

My response could only have been that of an eleven year old: surprise - how could this happen when I was being so careful?; thankfulness that nobody, particularly my mom, had seen this mistake; and concern that my mother would notice the cut in my pants (I think they might have been my nice plaid bell-bottoms). Next, oddly enough, amusement at the sight of the scalpel sticking straight up out of my leg since I had instinctively released it. And finally the realization that this hurt a little, but fortunately not as much as one might have expected: a band-aid was all that was needed for the wound and the cut in the pants was small enough to be passed off as an unfortunate tear but easily stitched. I then finished the whittling albeit after having gone and found a proper knife and I don't think I have ever been distracted and wounded myself since.

It is hard not to be over-protective of our children, but making and building things is one way for them to make the little mistakes early on when the consequences are not severe, and to allow them to learn the skills that, in fact, do prevent the major errors later.

Beyond the enjoyment (and frustration) of building something yourself, there is then also the pleasure of the final product. I have a number of the various craft items that I put together in my childhood and now easily see the issues, the flaws, the not-quite-so-perfect paint job, but I know that at the time of its creation it was perfect.

There are several categories of books that can be helpful in building or fueling an interest in making things. At the most basic level and for the earliest ages, you have things like doing a puzzle (you know exactly that feeling of triumph as the last piece goes in), then you have things like coloring books, and books with punch out pieces such as dresses for paper dolls or pieces for building a version of paper airplane or the like. I would recommend always having some of each of these around for that rainy afternoon. Puzzles in particular can be a fun, though possibly competitive, family activity. Another group of related books would be to do with cooking, but that is for another time.

Among reading books, though, there are really three categories: books that tell you how to build something, books that are about building in general, and books that are stories in which building or making something is a central and pivotal event in the book.

Picture Books