I have a little red poppet on the mantel in my living room. I love her. And fear her. She's an odd duck--tiny and inconspicuous but also frighteningly serene.
She reminds me of the Holy Spirit, actually. Obviously, she's wearing the liturgical red suggesting both the fire of Pentecost and the blood of the martyrs. But she seems to be bigger than she is, always waiting and watching. I suspect that, when I'm not paying attention, she floats around the room, making everything more...fizzy. The air crackles when the Spirit passes by. Colors are brighter, breaths are deeper.
That's a lot of power for someone three inches tall.