Just re-backed a worn family Bible — hands remember what the brain forgot

Customer brought in her grandfather's Bible, spine hanging on by memory and a shred of linen. I stripped it down, re-sewed the sections, and somewhere in the middle of paring the new leather I realised my hands were doing the whole job on their own — the way they do after thirty years. It's not holy work by itself, but it's the closest I get to prayer that leaves a mark on the shelf.