I will never forget the expression on the faces of my preteen friends when they first came to visit our home. They would walk in fairly nonchalant and within seconds jaws would drop and eyes would widen. What was it that caught their attention immediately? EVERYTHING! We were raised in a home filled wall to wall with antiques and collectibles.

My mother always had a flair for display and style and cleverly balanced both showroom quality and practicality in every room. My friends often said it looked like we lived in a museum. And that was the exact effect my parents wanted, but there was always the hindrance of us having to actually live a normal lifestyle amongst our many gems.

This was achieved with education and a whole lot of patience. I think I was aware of Roseville pottery before I was aware of Led Zeppelin. Both my parents had collected. So after marriage and the plan of raising a family, they had decided early on to include their children in their interest from the very beginning.

My brother and I were raised to admire and respect the vast collections and antiques, because our parents took the time to explain the history of the items, their rarity, and the privilege that we had to have these things in our possession.

Believe me, there were times when curiosity got the best of us. Once I was found playing with a 1920's composition Mickey Mouse marionette and although firmly spoken to, I was not punished. I was told that it is understandable for me to want to play with a "toy," but this was a very "special toy." At age 4, my mother went on to explain what it was made of, how this process is no longer popular, and the fact that Mickey himself has evolved into a totally different looking creature since. This helped me understand that it was not just a "don't touch" toy, but a piece of Americana. As were the carousel horses, the multiple bobbers, the Lionel trains and Steiff's galore.

If these items were destroyed, not only would we lose these precious pieces of the past, but whoever was to have it in the future would also be at a loss. Most likely your children will be the first to inherit these things, so it is best they learn young to safeguard them.

It is important not to deny yourself the passion of collecting, in fear of small children living in the house. Granted the majority of porcelains and rarer pieces were kept in curio cabinets and glass-enclosed hutches for the sake of everyone's sanity. But we knew early on that if it was behind glass, it was not meant to be handled without supervision. And of course the novelty of "newness" wears off quickly.

We were not hostages as children, by any means. We were allowed to play with the Steiff bears, and sometimes we'd play with a vintage board game or antique rocking horses. But we knew how to go about it. Clean hands, gentle playing, and consideration helped keep the harmony.

If you tell a young child to never touch a particular item, chances are they will at the first opportunity. Better to let them inspect and admire under your supervision. You can't be everywhere all the time, so better they have an idea of what it is they are about to manhandle before the manhandling commences.

Just as you would encourage your toddler to gently handle of puppy or kitten, it is the same with collectibles and antiques. Teach them how to pick up gently, hold firmly and replace carefully. Give them some history, and information. Let them be aware of the life known prior to MTV, cable and cell phones. They just might appreciate all the more the state-of-the-art technology they take for granted today, when they realize butter was not always purchased at the store, nor was laundry washed in automatic machines. Let them just once play with a rotary-dial metal phone that weighs five pounds and even the youngest child can appreciate where it was we came from.

Before you know it, the same passionate blood for collecting that runs through your veins will inevitably run its course through your children's. I know it has in our family. Ask my six-year-old daughter, Aurora, where Limoge is from. She can tell you.