Work made holy
Over many a Sabbath the lads showed me where the rabbit warrens were, and the places in the rocks along the coast where the plovers hid their eggs, to be looked at but never disturbed. For hardy lads they had a gentle touch with flowers, and the discovery of a tiny bloom hidden beneath the leaves of a larger plant would draw from them both a sudden intake of breath.In the same manner that we played, so too we worked, and we made of work a thing of joy, for even hard work shared is work made worthwhile, and when shared with those we love, it is work made holy. So, I believe, not because someone taught me with some words, but because, clear and simple, that was the way of it.