OUR STORY

YUNFELT: A PROMISE OF MEMORIES

“When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past…”
— Shakespeare, Sonnet 30

I’m Yun. I used to be a programmer.

The big city gave me everything I thought I wanted: a stable job, my own apartment. But day after day, the world outside my window grew smaller, and my heart spun in an empty loop.

That fall, I went back to my grandmother’s old country house. In an old shoebox in the attic, I found something she had left behind — a palm-sized woolen felt cat. Crooked ears, faded gray stripes. It was a miniature of the cat I grew up with, Mochi. My grandmother had made him, stitch by stitch.

I held it in my hand, sat on the dusty floor, and cried.

When my vacation ended, I returned to the city. I put the little cat on my bookshelf, where it slowly gathered dust. Life went on as before.

Then, one evening a few months later, the little girl next door knocked on my door.

Her name was Lily. She was seven. Her dog Buddy — a yellow Labrador who was always smiling — had been hit by a car the week before. Right in front of her house.

“Yun, Buddy has gone across the rainbow bridge. I’m so scared I’ll forget what he looked like. Can you help me remember?”

At two in the morning, a tiny yellow dog lay in my palm. It was my first try, guided by childhood memories — not perfect, but those ears? They really flew.

The next morning, I placed that little thing into Lily’s hand. She looked down at it for a long time, and then she smiled. She clutched the miniature Buddy to her chest and said, “He’s back. Small, but I can hold him forever.”

The next day, I quit my job.

And so Yunfelt was born.

Yun is my name, and felt — the craft. I choose wool that once warmed real sheep under the sun. Because it is soft and unbreakable — like memory itself.

Now, you send me a photo of your pet — a dog running, a cat curled up, a bird tilting its head. I will sculpt a palm-sized miniature twin, capturing the pose that moves you most.

Because the best memories are not meant to be just remembered. They are meant to be held.

— Yun
Founder of Yunfelt