“I painted my grandmother’s kitchen onto 5,800 little stoves. Now I can’t see the brush anymore.” — Why a 74-year-old Dutch-American potter from Holland, Michigan is letting her last hand-painted teapot oil diffusers go at a special price, before her kiln goes cold for good.

Every winter evening at seven, Mina Hoekstra lifts the lid off a little teapot on her kitchen windowsill. She pours in some water and adds five drops of cinnamon and clove oil. Then she pulls a tiny tray out of the blue-and-white stove underneath, sets a tealight on it, lights it and slides it back in. Ten minutes later, the whole house smells like Christmas baking.

It is an oil diffuser. The old-fashioned kind, with no plug, no cord and no blinking lights. The little candle warms the water in the teapot, and the warm water carries the scent of the oil through the rooms. Mina made the stove herself. She has made about 5,800 of them since 1981.

Mina is 74. She lives in Holland, Michigan, a lakeside town founded by Dutch settlers, where the streets turn red and yellow with tulips every May. Her grandmother Grietje came here from Friesland, in the north of the Netherlands, in 1947. She brought two suitcases. And one little blue stove for her teapot.

“Every Dutch kitchen had one. A candle under the teapot, so the tea stays warm all afternoon. In Oma’s house, it was never cold.”

The little stove that was sold for two dollars

Every afternoon at four, Oma Grietje made tea. The pot went on the little stove. The candle went underneath. Then came the cookies with cinnamon and cloves. Mina sat at that table almost every day of her childhood.

In the winter of 1980, Grietje died. Mina was in Chicago with her husband, who was in the hospital. While she was away, the family sold the contents of the house at an estate sale. The little blue stove went for two dollars. Nobody wrote down who bought it.

For a whole year, Mina drove to every antique shop and flea market in West Michigan. She never found it. In the fall of 1981, she signed up for a pottery class at night.

“If I couldn’t find Oma’s stove, I had to make it myself. It took me eleven tries. The first ten looked like bricks.”

The basement where 5,800 stoves were painted by hand

Her studio is the basement under her house. There is one kiln, one small window and a radio on the shelf. It smells of clay and coffee. In winter, the snow comes up to the window.

One stove takes her about six hours, spread over a week. She shapes the stove and the little teapot. She lets them dry. She fires them in the kiln. Then she paints every flower, every leaf and every blue line by hand. Then the kiln again. That is why she never made more than about 130 a year.

Every May, she sold them at her table during Tulip Time, the town’s big festival. People lined up before eight in the morning. Some families have bought one for every grandchild.

“You paint one blue line in one breath. If you stop halfway, everyone can see where you breathed.”

How five drops of oil fill a whole house

People who order one of Mina’s stoves usually say the same thing first: “It’s so small and it fills the whole house.” That is exactly how Oma’s worked.

The idea is simple. Water and a few drops of oil go in the teapot on top. A tealight goes in the stove underneath. The candle gently warms the water, and the scent rises into the room. One tealight lasts about four hours. That is a whole evening.

• “The Teapot Bowl”: The little teapot on top holds the water and the oil. Take off the lid, fill it about two-thirds with water and add five to ten drops of any essential oil you like: lavender, orange, cinnamon or eucalyptus. If the water gets low, just top it up. “Oma kept her tea warm up there,” Mina says. “I keep the smell of her kitchen in it.”
• “The Slide-Out Candle Tray”: The tealight sits on a small tray with a handle. You pull it out, light it and slide it back in. “Oma burned her fingers on that stove for thirty years. Yours won’t.”
• “The Glowing Firebox”: The opening in the front is shaped like an old wood stove. When the candle burns, you see the little flame flicker inside, the way a real fire glows on a winter night.
• “The Kiln-Fired Delft Blue”: The blue flowers are painted under the glaze and fired in the kiln. They never fade or rub off, and a damp cloth is all it takes to clean it. At about 6 inches tall, it fits on any windowsill, shelf or bedside table.

The smell that is waiting for you at the door

Most people buy one of Mina’s diffusers for the blue flowers. They keep lighting it for the smell.

The little candle only makes the water warm, never boiling. So the oil does not burn or turn bitter. The scent rises slowly and softly. After about ten minutes, you can smell it in the next room. Not too strong. Just enough that you notice it every time you walk in.

Mina changes the oil with the seasons. Cinnamon and clove in December, for the smell of Christmas baking. Orange in the kitchen in January, when everything outside is gray. Pine when the first snow comes. And lavender on the bedside table, an hour before bed.

“When my grandson comes in from the cold, he doesn’t even say hello first. He says: Oma, it smells like Christmas in here.”

That is what her little teapot diffuser does. You come home, you open the door, and the house already smells warm.

The morning she painted a flower in the wrong place

What Mina will miss most are the quiet mornings in the basement. The radio. The coffee. The first stove of the year coming out of the kiln, still warm.

In the spring of 2025, her eye doctor gave her the news. Macular degeneration. It slowly takes away the middle of what you see. It will not come back. Mina can still shape a stove. But the thin blue lines and the tiny flowers need sharp eyes, and hers are going.

“Last month I painted a whole flower and found out the next morning it was on the back of the stove, not the front.”

In October she fired the kiln for the last time. There is nobody to take over. 212 teapot diffusers are left on the shelves. In the spring, the kiln will be sold.

“A stove nobody lights is just a pretty box”

For 45 years, Mina sold every stove at Tulip Time for twenty dollars. Part of the money always went to the town library, where Oma Grietje learned her English.

For her last 212, she could ask three times as much. Everyone would understand. She won’t.

“I don’t want them in a china cabinet. I want them lit on a windowsill every evening this winter.”

She wants her last stoves in real homes this winter. Homes where somebody comes in from the cold and the house smells like someone was waiting for them. The way Oma’s did.

Mina doesn’t use a computer. Her grandson Bram, a teacher in Grand Rapids, kept getting calls from people in Ohio and Indiana who couldn’t come to Tulip Time. So Bram set up the page where you can order now. He takes the photos on Mina’s kitchen table and packs every box himself.

“Bram does the computer. I do the painting. And the bossing around.”

What families say about Mina’s teapot diffusers

• ★★★★★

  “It’s small, but five drops of oil fill our whole downstairs. I light it every evening when I get home. The little candle tray is so much easier than fishing a tealight out with your fingers.”

  Sharon V., Zeeland, MI
• ★★★★★

  “My grandmother was from Groningen and had blue and white everywhere. When I unwrapped this one, I had to sit down. It sits next to her old teapot now.”

  Diane B., Pella, IA
• ★★★★★

  “Bought one for my sister’s birthday and one for myself. Very well packed, not a single chip. The flicker in the little stove door is the coziest thing in the house.”

  Karen M., Toledo, OH

Three questions people ask before ordering

Where can I buy one of Mina’s teapot diffusers?

Only through this page. Mina’s diffusers are not sold on Amazon, Temu or in any store.

How long will they be available?

Only while supplies last. The kiln has been fired for the last time, and there are 212 teapot diffusers left. When they are gone, they are gone for good.

What if it’s not right for me?

You have 30 days to try it at home. If you are not happy, just send a short email and you will get your money back. No questions, no hassle.

More from people who light one every evening

• ★★★★★

  “Good heavy ceramic, not flimsy at all. I put a drop of cinnamon oil in a little water and the kitchen smells like Christmas baking for hours.”

  Linda T., Grand Haven, MI
• ★★★★★

  “I ordered one for the bathroom and then went back for a second one for the bedroom. You can tell every flower was painted by a real person.”

  Patricia K., Fort Wayne, IN
• ★★★★★

  “Gave it to my mother, who is 86. She said it looks just like the tea warmer in her aunt’s kitchen. She lights it every afternoon at four now.”

  Nancy D., Kalamazoo, MI