My dirty, scarred and callused hands hung by my side, my God Father’s ancient mason trial gripped loosely by numb fingers. I took pride in what my hands represented to me: hard work, dedication, commitment and reward. As the blazing sun bore down on my shirtless back, I stood soaked from sweat. I felt older than my years and stared out at what I created. It was a beautiful flagstone sidewalk sparkling with variations of pale blue, fiery orange, conservative grey, and powerful purple stones. Despite it’s wondrous aesthetic appeal, the overwhelming praise I received from my client, and the ‘fortune’ I had just earned; what I gained most from this experience was the satisfaction found in the admiration of one’s own creation. In a way this sidewalk
