One Labor Day in 1968 we were visiting friends whose son had come home for a short stay. Andrew graduated from Harvard, spent a few years in Vietnam, and now was a long-haired hippie whose philosophy was that being a good, loving person entitled him to society's benefits. My husband questioned his value system, and Andy countered with: "And what do you do for society? Place one brick on top of another?"

My husband, a carpenter, replied: "Yes. My hands are calloused and permanently dirty, my back and knees usually hurt from the pounding, bending, and lifting. I might die or get hurt from the heights at which I do my work. But, no, I do not merely put one brick on top of another. I build homes for families to live in, schools for them to learn in, town halls for them to vote in, and churches for them to worship in. You see, God uses the labor of my hands to distribute his blessings to his children."

Labor Day--a special holiday when we pay tribute to the uncommon laborer--the people who perform their assigned tasks, each according to their God-given talents.

Lois Smith
Oconomowoc, Wisconsin