My heart honestly shattered.

Every evening after school, my son and I worked on a tiny woodland world. He was always half-asleep, but his hands wouldn’t stop — not until the moss looked just right, not until the owl had the perfect branch.
“It’s a secret home inside the forest,” he told me with a spark in his eyes.

He sculpted a tiny hedgehog, arranged the pinecones, and even carved a miniature log with his little fingers — trembling but proud.
He poured his whole heart into it.

Then one day, he brought it to school for a project.
But when he came home… his eyes were red.

He held it carefully, like broken glass.
“I spent a lot of time sculpting… but no one appreciated it,” he said.
No praise. No encouragement. Just silence. Laughter. Dismissal.

I wanted to storm into that school and scream,
“This is art. Can’t you see it?”

But instead, I just hugged him tightly and whispered:
“Let’s show it to someone who will see the magic.”

That night, we posted it on my little craft shop on the Tedooo app.
And then… something beautiful happened.

People from all over began leaving kind words.
A man from Oregon asked if he took commissions.
Someone from the UK said it reminded them of their childhood forest.
And for the first time in days — my son smiled. He stood taller.

I’ll never let him sell it. That piece stays with us forever.
But what we gained was far more precious than a sale.
He learned that the world can be kind. That someone will understand.

So if your child creates something — anything —
Protect that spark.

Nurture it. Believe in it.
Because the world won’t always get it…
…but someone, somewhere, will.