For a few years, I've worked as a private contractor. My grandfather told me to be a woodworker

and carpenter. Grandma used to say, I could properly use a towel before I could talk, but

I think they might have exaggerated a bit. Still, I love making things with my hands.

That passion has given me quite a lot over the years. A family, a home, a steady job,

a 68-dutch charger. What more can you ask for? That is, until not too long ago, when I

got a bit more than I asked for.

When the pandemic hit, there were a lot of people who lost their jobs. My firm was pretty

much fine, as people needed to fix up the houses to make it through an entire year indoors.

There was also a rising interest in cost and furniture, so we got a lot of special orders.

I felt kind of bad that we were doing so well, so I decided I wanted to do something

to give back to the community. So, for those people who lost their jobs, I decided to start

a woodworking class. My wife loved the idea.

We got to use the wood shop at a local high school after just a few short talks with

the principal. I put a fly around town, posted some ads on social media and asked my daughters

to spread the word in their classes. We still made sure to adhere to safety standards,

so there could only be ten people at a time, and we spread out far and wide.

It took me less than a month to put it all together, and sooner than I realised, I was

a teacher. It was easier than I thought it would be, and as soon as I started talking

about what I love, I wasn't stoppable.

One by one, I asked my students what they wanted to make.

Robert, an older man, wanted to make a pool queue. Donner, a stay-at-home mom, wanted

to make a pattern rolling pin. Everyone had their own idea.

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