Having had my fourth child a month before the oldest turned six, nearly nineteen years ago, I remember waiting rooms and kids running around and their being bored or tired. I remember how much one kind word or smile from an older parent, remembering, meant to me.

I discovered not too long ago that there are women in Peru who put bread on their families’ tables by handknitting intricate, adorable fingerpuppets; I bought my first one, a penguin, at Stitches West one year, from Pam Bell at Pacific Meadows Alpacas. I put it on the joystick of my motorized scooter that I use for long days out like that, and instantly became friends with every small child being dragged around by their mom that day. Adults who saw it couldn’t help but laugh too.

From there, I’ve bought them by the dozens online, and always keep some in my purse just in case. I try to always ask the parents first before handing one over. It is amazing to watch a waiting room in a doctor’s office be completely transformed as a child goes from not wanting to be in a strange, unsettling environment, to, playing with something cool and new and with a face and personality they can go play with. The whole room lights up in delight at the imagination of a now-happy child.

I was getting low, so I reached into the closet to pull out the bag they came in to replenish my supply. And out came: a blue elephant. Given last week’s election returns, that suddenly struck me as very, very funny. I guess this one’s for me.