Chapter 7: The Benches in the Square
By the end of winter, the community library in Sperryville was nearing completion.
Its massive hammer-beam roof trusses, built entirely of local white oak harvested through sustainable forest thinning, rose thirty feet above the polished pine floors. Hand-carved arched windows flooded the reading rooms with natural light, overlooking the rolling foothills of the Blue Ridge.
The town council, overwhelmed by the guild’s dedication, declared the building *The Vance Memorial Library and Educational Center.*
On a crisp, sunny Saturday in late March, thirty guild apprentices, local farmers, and shopkeepers gathered to install the final twenty-four hand-carved oak reading tables and benches.
Clara stood on the mezzanine, holding a set of finishing blueprints, watching the young apprentices work with pride and confidence.
Among them was Marcus, an eighteen-year-old apprentice who had spent three years in juvenile detention before finding his way to the mill. Marcus was carefully leveling a six-foot walnut library bench, using a vintage wooden spirit level.
""Plumb and true, Miss Clara,"" Marcus called up, his face beaming with hard-earned pride. ""Not even a sixteenth off.""
""Master-grade work, Marcus,"" Clara smiled down. ""Your stamp goes on the underside.""
Thomas walked up the stairs to the mezzanine, handing Clara a cup of steaming black tea.
""The county historical board just approved the restoration grant for the 1840 mill bridge down the road, Clara,"" Thomas said, his voice warm. ""They want the guild to lead the timber work.""
Clara looked at the papers, then looked out the great arched window toward the mountains where the morning sun was chasing away the last shadows of winter.
May you like
""We take the contract, Thomas,"" Clara said, her heart full. ""We have the timber, and we have the hands.""
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