A prayer book for the not-praying kind

Finished a binding commission this week for a fella who said he doesn't believe in anything — except the idea of his grandad's hands. Stamped the spine with a simple raised cross because that's what his grandad would've recognized, and told him it doesn't matter what you call it when the thread holds. He teared up a little at the workshop door. That's the whole job, really — making the outside match what someone's hands already knew.