The Cooper's Shop

Samuel followed the sound of steady scraping until he reached another newly occupied shop.

Unlike the sawmill with its roaring blades or the blacksmith shop ringing with hammers, this building seemed almost peaceful.

Every sound was measured and deliberate.

A drawknife whispered across seasoned oak.

A wooden mallet tapped gently against a steel hoop.

The fragrance of fresh white oak, cedar, and pine drifted through the open doorway.

Samuel stepped inside.

The walls were lined with finished work.

Barrels of every size stood in neat rows beside butter churns, water buckets, milk pails, wash tubs, open vats, grain casks, and wooden kegs.

Every piece gleamed from careful planning and patient hands.

Bent over his workbench stood Isaac Beiler.

His gray beard unshaved, as he carefully shaved another thin ribbon from an oak stave.

He paused only long enough to test the fit before returning the stave to the barrel he was assembling.

Samuel smiled.

"Good afternoon, Isaac."

Isaac looked up and returned the smile.

"Afternoon, Samuel."

Samuel walked slowly around the shop, admiring the craftsmanship.

"I had no idea one man could build so many different things from the same pile of lumber."

Isaac chuckled.

"Wood has more than one purpose if a fellow takes time to listen to it."

Samuel stopped beside a nearly completed butter churn.

"So all these are spoken for already?"

Isaac nodded.

"The dairy needs churns. The creamery needs cheese vats and butter tubs. Rebecca's kitchen needs buckets and wash tubs. The flour mill wants barrels. The cannery will soon need large soaking tubs and storage casks. Before long every cabin will have a water bucket by the front door."

Samuel ran his hand over the smooth side of a finished barrel.

"I suppose none of us ever think about the fellow who makes the containers."

Isaac smiled.

"People notice what's inside the barrel. A cooper is happy if nobody notices the barrel itself."

Both men laughed.

Just then footsteps sounded outside.

Rebecca appeared in the doorway carrying a basket in one hand and a stoneware jug in the other.

"I thought I might find someone working too hard to remember supper was still a few hours away."

Isaac laughed.

"I reckon you're talking about me."

Rebecca set the basket on the workbench and uncovered two generous slices of warm apple pie.

She poured fresh coffee into two enamel cups from the stoneware jug.

Samuel accepted his cup with a grateful smile.

"Rebecca, you're becoming the most popular person in the settlement."

She looked around the shop, her eyes settling on the rows of buckets lined neatly against the wall.

"Isaac," she said with a grin, "who ever heard of pie making a bucket?"

Isaac looked puzzled for a moment.

Rebecca pointed toward the basket.

"I brought pie..."

Then she pointed toward the wooden buckets.

"...and you're making buckets."

Samuel burst into laughter.

Isaac scratched his beard before finally catching the joke.

"Well," he said, grinning from ear to ear, "I reckon that's the first time anybody's ever compared my buckets to pie."

Rebecca laughed.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

The three stood together enjoying fresh pie and hot coffee while the afternoon filtered light poured through the workshop windows.

Samuel looked around once more.

Every trade he visited seemed to complete another piece of the settlement.

Brick by brick.

Board by board.

Barrel by barrel.

One craftsman at a time, they were building far more than a village.

They were building a way of life that could endure for generations.