I am on a roll. This is my fifth arguably meaningful thread in the space of an hour.
I remember finding a story I wrote as a kid, and being surprised how articulate and clever it was. I wish I could find it again. All I remember of it now is that it was about a haunted lake.
What items you produced as a child have surprised your adult self for their quality?
I wrote a song on the piano when I was 11 years old that is as nice today as it was in 1969. Everyone I’ve ever played it for has remarked on how beautiful it is.
My mother kept a collection of my primary school exercise books. I was astonished to find that, at eight years old, my handwriting was beautiful. This would be less surprising if my handwriting as an adult was halfway decent, but it’s actually nothing short of shocking - yet at the age of eight, I was able to write in beautiful cursive. Sharp, elegant, hey-I’d-download-that-font stylishness.
I do vaguely recall that my penmanship began to deteriorate in grade 5, when we switched from lead pencil to biro (presumably because with pencil the light upstrokes and heavy downstrokes look much the same) and then when I started high school students weren’t allowed to use cursive and had to use print instead. I guess that was the beginning of the end for my skills in handwriting, and it’s only gotten worse as I’ve aged. 
A lot of items I sewed as a teen surprise me now. I used french seams and other details that these days I skip. Much more attention to details and linings and facings.
My mother kept the first poems I wrote. I was about 9 or 10 years old. They are written on note cards, in pencil and in my very childish penmanship. One actually has metaphor I would use today.
