Growing up, my brother, Samuel, and I used to work for my grandpa during the summers. Grandpa lived through the Depression and knew a little something about grit. He was a carpenter by trade and built his home with his own hands. He had a dusty barn, a flourishing garden, and an endless list of chores for his 8- and 10-year-old grandsons. The morning of our first day of work, Samuel and I came ready to negotiate our wages. “That’s a lot of work Grandpa! How much ya gonna pay us?” He bent down to eye level and spoke in a tone that carried both authority and loving wisdom: “Boys, I’ll just say it. It’s gonna be haaaaaard work — and loooooow pay.” We stared back with innocent eyes and our mouths wide open. And then, we got to work ... CONTINUE READING