I grew up on stories of my parents' first Christmas together: they were so poor that they didn't have money to buy ornaments and so made their own. It always seemed such a sweet picture to me that I decided my husband and I should do the same (though I think the supplies for making them cost about as much as buying a box of ball ornaments). My husband dutifully stuffed each star as I sewed them (and cursed how easily brocade fabric frays), humoring my artificially constructed romanticization.
It is only since having children that I have realized how brilliant this project actually was. The girls cart them around all day long and I have never once had to sweep up a broken ornament from the floor.