"I didn't want to see whether the store was profitable."
"I wanted to know whether it still had a soul."
Adrian nodded.
"And?"
Margaret smiled.
"It does."
He looked relieved.
"Because of Daniel?"
"Because of you."
Adrian smiled.
Margaret continued.
"But remember something."
"What?"
"A business can lose its soul very quickly."
"How?"
"One judgment at a time."
"One arrogant decision at a time."
"One customer ignored."
"One employee humiliated."
"One person treated as if they aren't important."
She looked directly at him.
"That's how it happens."
Adrian nodded.
"Then how do we stop it?"
Margaret smiled.
"By remembering."
"Remembering what?"
"That everyone walks into the room carrying a story."
She pointed toward the door.
"You don't know what that woman has survived."
"You don't know what that man has built."
"You don't know what that young employee dreams about."
"And you don't know who will change your life."
Adrian looked at her.
"That's what happened to me."
"Yes."
Margaret smiled.
"You thought you were judging me."
"I was."
"No."
She shook her head.
"You were judging yourself."
Adrian didn't understand.
She continued.
"The way you treat people reveals who you are."
He thought about that.
Then he smiled.
"I think I understand."
"Good."
Margaret picked up her handbag.
She walked toward the door.
Adrian followed.
Before leaving, she turned around.
"Adrian."
"Yes?"
"One more thing."
"What?"
"Tomorrow, bring your work clothes."
He laughed.
"Why?"
"Because we're going into the workshop."
"What are we doing?"
She smiled.
"I'm teaching you how to make a pair of boots."
Adrian looked nervous.
"I thought I already knew."
Margaret laughed.
"You don't."
The next morning, Adrian arrived early.
He wore an old shirt.
Margaret was already waiting.
She placed a piece of leather on the table.
"Begin."
Adrian picked it up.
"Where do I start?"
Margaret smiled.
"With respect."
"For the leather?"
"For the work."
She showed him how to cut.
How to shape.
How to stitch.
How to listen to the leather.
Hours passed.
His hands became sore.
His back hurt.
He made mistakes.
Margaret corrected him.
He tried again.
By the end of the day, he had produced something imperfect.
A small leather wallet.
The stitching wasn't perfect.
The edges weren't smooth.
But Adrian stared at it proudly.
Margaret looked at it.
"It's terrible."
He laughed.
"I know."
"But."
He waited.
"You made it yourself."
She smiled.
"That's what matters."
Adrian looked at the wallet.
He understood.
The value wasn't only in the object.
It was in the time.
The effort.
The patience.
The hands behind it.
The story.
And suddenly, he understood why Margaret had been angry when she saw the poor stitching in the store.
It wasn't because the product was imperfect.