The toy shop at Louisiana State Penitentiary in Angola is a place where things are salvaged and reshaped. An old cabinet headed for the junk heap, is transformed into a monster truck. Busted bicycles are rescued from the scrap yard and repaired. A broken broom handle is reborn as a stick pony. And the worn out strings on a Weed Whacker destined for the trash, become feelers on the head of a wooden caterpillar.

Items that would have been dismissed as garbage, are recovered by prison inmates who have committed themselves to making good on the promise of Christmas by donating an average of 5,000 handcrafted toys and 350 restored bicycles to underprivileged children every December.

It is an act of rehabilitation, according to Warden Burl Cain, that not only benefits the community, but also warms the troubled souls of the men who fix every bicycle and scrounge up every spare piece of wood they find.

"I think it is really therapeutic for all the men involved," said Cain, who first approved the toy shop program in 1996 after it was proposed by a group of inmates. "With rehabilitation, men feel a change. Some, when they feel this change, want to give something back."

Tom Joyner has been incarcerated at Angola for 31 years and is a founding member of the toy shop. He said that he and his fellow inmates often receive "thank you" letters from the many children and approximately 20 charities that receive the toys and bicycles.

Those thank yous mean a lot.

"That isn't [the only reason] why we do it though," said Joyner. "What this is, is a good thing. Someone can come and do something to raise their self-esteem and be productive. We do it because we love it and because it makes kids happy."

Burk Foster, a criminal justice professor at the University of Louisiana-Lafayette, has been visiting Angola for more than 30 years. While most people might not understand the need for rehabilitation programs at a prison where the average inmate is serving a sentence of 88 years, Foster sees the positive impact these programs can have.

"It creates a sense of community," said Foster. "They are all looking to live a life that is as normal as possible given the prison environment."

Eighty-five percent of the 5,100 offenders who are incarcerated at Angola, America's largest prison, were convicted of murder, rape, or violent robbery. The institution now only accepts inmates with sentences of 50 years or more, making it unlikely they will ever leave.

"The guys working in the toy shop are doing it because they love what they do, not because it will help them get out," said Foster. "The warden [Cain] tries to give an edifying purpose to their confinement."

Since beginning as warden in 1995, Cain has gained national recognition for helping reform Angola, which the media was once called "America's Bloodiest Prison" due to the high number of inmate assaults. Now, the prison is heralded as one of the country's most progressive institutions where inmate violence is a rarity.

Where men once joined prison gangs to find security and camaraderie, they now join one of Angola's 30 groups and organizations, which sponsor an inmate rodeo and craft fair, a nationally recognized inmate radio station, and an award-winning inmate magazine.

As with any corrections program, there are security risks that must be assessed. At the toy shop, where inmates have access to tools and wood-cutting devices, corrections officers take special care to keep the facility secure, according to Cain.

And so do the inmates.  

"If someone is going to enter this place to do something other than be productive and help, we won't let them," said Joyner. "We just will not let it happen."

 Warden Cain understands Joyner's desire to protect the toy shop from the wrong element.

"To those men, that toy shop is sacred ground," said Cain. "They don't want anything to happen that would take away their privilege of working there."

The toy shop is one of Angola's most popular programs and membership is usually restricted to about 30 veteran inmates who have proven their skills and trustworthiness, according to the warden.

"You just can't go wrong with this program, there are no negatives," he said. "The inmates love it, we love it, and the community loves it." 
 
The inmates in the toy shop especially love rebuilding bicycles for children, according to Joyner.

"We like it because we think it adds some responsibility to the child and widens their territory a little," he said. "And the very first bike is what's neat. If they've never had one before and you hit a kid with a bike, you can just see it in their faces."

Every worker in the toy shop has other jobs and responsibilities at Angola and can only make toys and repair bicycles during their personal time. Despite the demanding commitment, many men work year-round making toys for charity. For inmates like Peter Mulè, who has been at Angola for 34 years, it is time well spent.

"We have a hard crew of about 10 who come every day," he said. "Right now I'm working on birdhouses for an orphanage. We make the birdhouses and send them to the orphans and they paint them."

Once a year, the inmates are even allowed to observe the joy their handiwork brings to children.

Every December, the inmates form a team of elves ¾ led by Santa ¾ and arrive at the visitor's shack in full costume to give away dozens of presents to girls and boys who have been good all year long and still believe.