In sixth grade, we made dioramas. I wanted mine to be the best and needed an exquisite box as the stage. No crappy Thomas McAn box for me. My grandfather happily donated an empty cigar box, a wooden delight with tiny brass hinges and a clasp.
I forget what the diorama scene was, but I remember being pleased with it. I got an "A". The teacher raved about the workmanship of the box, marveling over the tiny brass hinges and the clasp.
I let her think I was a regular ol' craftsman. Yep, that part was all my handiwork, Teach.