The Gift of Olga: Crafting with Reindeer Antler

Some materials don’t come into your life through planning or purchase. They arrive like stories, placed in your hands by strangers who already feel like part of your craft.

It happened during a vendor show, in one of those quiet breaths between waves of people. A man approached my booth. We talked—about rings, sizes, and antlers. He asked if I had reindeer, and I told him no, everything before him was elk.

Then he mentioned his needle case, carved in the old double-cut style, pigmented with care—a piece full of heritage. I admired his work, offered a card, and said I’d love to collaborate sometime. He said he’d already taken one, and he might just be interested.

Before he left, I offered him something of mine: an unfinished elk antler point—about two inches, deep brown like coffee, carved along the shaft into a sharp taper. I said I was happy to share what I do, to help keep the art alive. That kind of exchange feels right to me.

He paused, looked at me with intention, and said, “I’ll be right back. I have something for you.”

Of course, I tried to be polite, said it wasn’t necessary—but he returned anyway, placing a gift in my hands I never expected: two reindeer antlers. The larger from a senior female named Olga, and the smaller from a young male.

The weight of that moment settled in slowly. I hadn’t just received antler—I’d been entrusted with stories, memory, and respect between makers.

I’ll be sharing their transformations soon. For now, I simply say: thank you. For trusting me. For honoring the craft. For reminding me that what we give, if given honestly, comes back in ways we could never expect.