When Marcus bought the most run-down house on Elm Street for $12,000—his entire life savings—his neighbors thought he’d lost his mind. The Victorian mansion had been abandoned for decades, its windows boarded up and its foundation crumbling. But sometimes the most broken things hold the greatest treasures, and sometimes a leap of faith leads to discoveries that change everything.
There are moments in life when desperation meets opportunity, when having nothing left to lose becomes the very thing that gives you the courage to risk everything. For Marcus Webb, that moment came on a gray Tuesday morning in October when he stood before a dilapidated Victorian house that everyone else had written off as hopeless.
What he discovered hidden within those crumbling walls would not only change his life but remind him—and anyone who hears this story—that sometimes the most valuable treasures are found in the places others are afraid to look.
This is a story about seeing potential where others see ruin, about the patience required to restore something broken, and about how the past sometimes leaves gifts for those brave enough to dig deep enough to find them.
The Man Who Had Nothing Left to Lose
Marcus Webb’s life hadn’t followed the trajectory he had planned. At thirty-four, he found himself recently divorced, recently unemployed, and recently evicted from the apartment he could no longer afford. The marketing company where he had worked for eight years had downsized, and his position—along with his health insurance, his steady paycheck, and his sense of professional identity—had disappeared with a single meeting in HR.
The divorce had been finalized six months earlier, taking with it half of his modest savings and most of his furniture. His ex-wife Sarah had kept their comfortable suburban home, leaving Marcus to navigate the brutal rental market with a damaged credit score and an unemployment check that barely covered basic expenses.
For three months, he had been staying in a cramped studio apartment above his friend Tony’s auto repair shop, paying rent with odd jobs and dwindling savings. It was meant to be temporary—just until he got back on his feet, found a new job, rebuilt his life. But as autumn turned to winter and his job applications continued to yield nothing but polite rejection emails, Marcus began to understand that temporary had become indefinite.
“You can’t keep living like this,” Tony said one evening as they shared takeout Chinese food in the makeshift apartment. “You’re too smart to be stuck in limbo forever.”
Marcus poked at his lo mein, considering his friend’s words. “I’ve applied to every company within fifty miles. Nobody’s hiring, at least not for what I do.”
“So maybe it’s time to do something different,” Tony suggested. “Something that doesn’t require someone else to give you permission to succeed.”
It was during one of these conversations that Tony mentioned the house on Elm Street. He had seen the “For Sale” sign while driving through the old part of town, and the price had caught his attention—$12,000 for a Victorian mansion that had once been one of the neighborhood’s most elegant homes.
“Twelve thousand?” Marcus repeated. “For a whole house?”
“Well, it needs work,” Tony admitted. “A lot of work. But the bones are good. Those old houses were built to last.”
The next morning, Marcus drove to Elm Street to see the property for himself.
The House That Time Forgot
The house at 847 Elm Street sat on a corner lot like a wounded giant, its Gothic Revival architecture still evident beneath layers of neglect and decay. Built in 1887, the three-story Victorian had clearly been magnificent once—ornate gingerbread trim, bay windows, a wraparound porch, and the kind of craftsmanship that modern construction rarely attempted.
But those glory days were long past. The front porch sagged dangerously, several windows were boarded up, and ivy had claimed most of the exterior walls. The paint had peeled away in sheets, revealing weathered wood underneath. The front yard was an overgrown jungle of weeds and volunteer trees that had grown wild in the absence of human care.
Marcus walked slowly around the perimeter, noting the cracked foundation, the missing shingles, and the gutters that hung at precarious angles. Any reasonable person would have seen a money pit, a project too massive and expensive for someone in his financial situation to even consider.
But Marcus found himself seeing something else entirely.
Beneath the damage and neglect, he could see the elegant proportions that had made this house a showpiece more than a century ago. He could imagine the wraparound porch restored to its original glory, the bay windows throwing warm light onto manicured gardens, the gingerbread trim painted in crisp whites and deep blues.
“You’re interested in the Webb property?”
Marcus turned to find an elderly woman approaching from the house next door. She was probably in her seventies, with silver hair and the kind of direct gaze that suggested she didn’t miss much of what happened in her neighborhood.
“I’m just looking,” Marcus said. “Trying to understand what it would take to bring it back.”
The woman extended her hand. “Eleanor Hartley. I’ve lived next door for forty-three years. Watched this place go from grand to sad to downright dangerous.”
“Marcus Webb. What happened to it?”
Eleanor gestured toward the house with a mixture of affection and sadness. “The last owner was an elderly man named Charles Morrison. Lived there alone for decades after his wife died. When his health started failing, he couldn’t keep up with the maintenance. After he passed five years ago, his children inherited it, but they live out of state. They’ve been trying to sell it ever since.”
“Why so cheap?”
“Because everyone who looks at it sees what you see—a disaster. The foundation needs work, the plumbing is probably shot, and I’d be surprised if the electrical system is up to code. Most buyers want something move-in ready, not a full-time restoration project.”
Marcus nodded, understanding the practical reality even as his imagination continued to see possibilities.
“But,” Eleanor continued, studying his face carefully, “if someone had the time, the skill, and the patience, this could be magnificent again. Charles always said this house had good bones. Built by craftsmen who took pride in their work.”
That afternoon, Marcus called the listing agent and requested a tour of the interior.
Seeing Through the Damage
The interior of 847 Elm Street was both worse and better than Marcus had expected. Worse because the damage was extensive—water stains on the ceilings, warped hardwood floors, wallpaper peeling in long strips, and a pervasive musty smell that spoke of years without proper ventilation.
But it was also better because beneath the surface damage, the original architecture remained largely intact. The bones of the house were indeed good—high ceilings with ornate crown molding, original hardwood floors that could be refinished, built-in bookcases and window seats that spoke of an era when homes were built with permanence in mind.
“The previous owner was a bit of a recluse in his later years,” the listing agent explained as they toured the main floor. “Didn’t do much maintenance, but he also didn’t make any unfortunate modernizations that destroyed the original character.”
Marcus walked through the rooms slowly, his contractor’s eye—developed through years of helping Tony with renovation projects—cataloging what needed to be repaired, replaced, or restored. The kitchen was a disaster, the bathrooms needed complete overhauls, and several rooms had obvious water damage that would require careful remediation.
But the foundation appeared solid, the original hardwood was salvageable, and the windows, while needing restoration, were the original wavy-glass panes that gave old houses their distinctive character.
“I know it looks overwhelming,” the agent said, noting Marcus’s thoughtful expression. “But the price reflects the condition. At twelve thousand dollars, you’re essentially buying the land and getting the house for free.”
That evening, Marcus sat in his temporary apartment above Tony’s shop, staring at the photos he had taken during the house tour. His bank account showed $11,847—his entire life savings after months of unemployment and the financial devastation of divorce.
Buying the house would leave him with virtually no money for renovations, no guarantee that he could make it habitable, and no backup plan if the project failed. It was exactly the kind of impulsive, risky decision that financial advisors warn against.
It was also the first time in months that Marcus had felt genuinely excited about the future.
The Leap of Faith
“You’re going to buy a house that doesn’t have working plumbing with money you can’t afford to lose?” Tony asked the next morning, his tone mixing disbelief with concern.
“I’m going to buy a house with incredible potential for less than most people spend on a car,” Marcus corrected. “And I’m going to restore it myself, one room at a time, one paycheck at a time.”
“What paycheck? You don’t have a job.”
“I’ll find work. Construction, handyman services, whatever it takes. This house gives me something to work toward instead of just trying to survive week to week.”
Tony was quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly. “You know what? You’re right. You’ve been stuck for months, and this is the first time you’ve sounded like yourself since the divorce.”
Three days later, Marcus signed the purchase agreement and became the owner of 847 Elm Street. He moved his few possessions into the most habitable room on the second floor and began the long process of bringing the house back to life.
The Daily Grind of Restoration
The first month was brutal. Marcus quickly discovered that living in a house while renovating it was completely different from working on a project you could leave at the end of the day. Every morning, he woke up surrounded by the scope of work that remained, and every evening, he fell asleep to the sounds of an old house settling and creaking around him.
He started with the essentials—getting the water turned on, ensuring the electrical system was safe enough for basic use, and making one bathroom functional. These basic improvements consumed most of his remaining savings, forcing him to get creative about funding the larger projects.
Marcus found work with a local construction company, doing day labor that paid cash and allowed him to observe professional restoration techniques. He also started taking on handyman jobs in the evenings and weekends, slowly building both his skills and his reputation in the community.
“The key to restoring an old house,” explained Jim Kowalski, the master carpenter who became Marcus’s unofficial mentor, “is patience. You can’t rush good work, and shortcuts always cost more in the long run.”
Marcus applied this philosophy methodically, tackling one room at a time with careful attention to preserving original details while upgrading functionality. He learned to strip and refinish hardwood floors, restore original window hardware, and repair the intricate plaster work that gave the house its character.
The work was physically demanding and often frustrating, but Marcus found it deeply satisfying in ways his office job had never been. Each completed project—a restored window, a refinished floor, a wall stripped of decades of paint and returned to its original beauty—provided tangible evidence of progress and improvement.
“You’re becoming quite the topic of conversation in the neighborhood,” Eleanor Hartley told him one afternoon as he worked on restoring the front porch railings. “People are amazed by how much you’ve accomplished.”
Marcus looked up from the piece of gingerbread trim he was carefully sanding. The house still had a long way to go, but the progress was undeniable. The front porch was structurally sound, several windows had been restored to full functionality, and the main floor was approaching livability.
“It’s starting to feel like home,” he admitted.
The Feeling Something Wasn’t Right
After six months of steady progress, Marcus had developed an intimate familiarity with every room, wall, and architectural detail of his house. He knew which floorboards creaked, which doors stuck in humid weather, and which windows provided the best natural light at different times of day.
Which is why, when he started working on the second-floor hallway, something felt wrong.
The hallway ran the length of the house, connecting four bedrooms and a bathroom. But as Marcus carefully measured the space to plan his restoration work, he noticed a discrepancy. The hallway felt shorter than it should be, given the external dimensions of the house.
At first, he attributed the feeling to the visual tricks that old houses often play—angled walls, irregular room sizes, architectural features that create optical illusions. But as he worked in the space day after day, the feeling persisted and grew stronger.
“The math doesn’t add up,” he told Tony one evening as they shared pizza and beer after a long day of work. “I’ve measured it three times. There’s about eight feet of space that’s unaccounted for.”
“Maybe there’s a closet you missed?” Tony suggested.
“I’ve checked every room. There’s no closet, no storage space, nothing that would account for the missing footage.”
Marcus pulled out the rough floor plans he had sketched during his initial survey of the house. According to his measurements, there should be space for another small room between the master bedroom and the bathroom, but that space simply didn’t exist in the current layout.
“Maybe the original layout was different,” Tony suggested. “Maybe someone walled off a room during a previous renovation.”
The idea intrigued Marcus. Victorian houses were often modified over the decades as families’ needs changed. It was entirely possible that a previous owner had closed off a room to create better flow or more privacy in the remaining spaces.
But why would someone wall off a room completely rather than simply changing its function? And why wouldn’t the real estate listing or previous owner have mentioned the modification?
The Discovery
The answer came three weeks later, while Marcus was working on removing layers of wallpaper from the hallway walls. He had already stripped most of the surface, revealing the original plaster underneath, when he noticed something unusual about one section of wall.
The plaster in this area felt different—slightly newer, with a different texture than the surrounding areas. More importantly, when Marcus tapped on it with his knuckles, it sounded hollow.
Heart racing with excitement and curiosity, Marcus carefully examined the wall more closely. The differences were subtle but unmistakable to someone who had spent months studying every detail of the house’s construction. This section of wall had been added later, probably decades after the house was built.
Using a small sledgehammer and chisel, Marcus carefully broke through the newer plaster. Behind it, he found wooden lath and then… nothing. Empty space.
Working methodically to avoid damaging anything that might be beyond the wall, Marcus created an opening large enough to shine a flashlight through. What he saw took his breath away.
It was a room—a complete, fully finished room that had been sealed off from the rest of the house. From what he could see through the opening, it appeared to be a small study or office, with built-in bookcases, a window that had been boarded up from the outside, and furniture that looked like it hadn’t been disturbed in decades.
With growing excitement, Marcus enlarged the opening until he could step through into the hidden space.
Stepping Into the Past
The hidden room felt like stepping into a time capsule. Dust motes danced in the beam of Marcus’s flashlight as he surveyed a space that appeared to have been untouched for decades. The air was stale but dry, suggesting that the room had been well-sealed when it was closed off.
The room was smaller than the bedrooms but perfectly proportioned, with a single window that had been boarded up from the outside (explaining why Marcus had never noticed it from the exterior). Built-in bookcases lined two walls, and a beautiful roll-top desk sat beneath the window.
But it was the contents of the room that truly amazed Marcus.
The bookcases were filled with leather-bound volumes—first editions of classic literature, historical texts, and what appeared to be personal journals. The desk held papers, correspondence, and personal effects that looked like they had been left mid-use, as if someone had simply stepped out for a moment and never returned.
Most intriguingly, there were several items that suggested significant value: a collection of rare coins displayed in felt-lined cases, several pieces of vintage jewelry in ornate boxes, and what appeared to be original artwork—small paintings and sketches that Marcus recognized as being in the style of well-known 19th-century artists.
As Marcus explored the room more carefully, he began to piece together the story of what had happened here.
The Mystery of Charles Morrison
Based on the personal papers scattered on the desk, it appeared that the hidden room had been the private study of Charles Morrison—the elderly man who had been the house’s last owner before his death five years earlier.
Among the papers, Marcus found correspondence dating back to the 1980s, personal journals that chronicled Morrison’s life as a widower, and most intriguingly, a series of letters from his adult children expressing concern about his mental health and financial management.
As Marcus read through the materials, a story began to emerge. Morrison had apparently become increasingly reclusive and paranoid in his later years, particularly after the death of his wife. He had gradually withdrawn from social contact and had become convinced that his children were only interested in his inheritance.
In response to these fears, Morrison had apparently decided to hide his most valuable possessions in this secret room, sealing it off from the rest of the house to protect his treasures from what he saw as grasping relatives and potential thieves.
The final entry in Morrison’s journal, dated just months before his death, read: “They think the old man has nothing left worth taking. Let them think that. The real treasures are safe where only I know to find them. Someday, someone who appreciates their true value will discover what I’ve preserved.”
Marcus sat in the dusty chair at Morrison’s desk, reading these words by flashlight, and felt a profound connection to this man he had never met. Both of them had seen potential and value where others saw only problems and difficulties.
Cataloging the Discovery
Over the next several days, Marcus carefully documented everything in the hidden room. He photographed each item, researched the potential value of the most promising pieces, and tried to understand the full scope of what Morrison had hidden away.
The collection was eclectic but valuable. The rare book collection alone appeared to be worth several thousand dollars, with first editions of works by Mark Twain, Edgar Allan Poe, and other American literary masters. The coin collection included several pieces that Marcus’s research suggested were quite rare and valuable.
Most significantly, there were three small paintings that Marcus believed might be original works by minor but recognized 19th-century artists. If authentic, these could be worth tens of thousands of dollars.
But beyond their monetary value, the items told a story of a man who had spent a lifetime collecting things that brought him joy and intellectual stimulation. The books were well-read, with handwritten notes in the margins. The coins were meticulously organized and labeled. The paintings were carefully preserved and displayed with obvious pride.
“It’s like he was creating a museum of the things that mattered most to him,” Marcus explained to Eleanor Hartley, who had been fascinated by the discovery. “And then he hid it all away when he became afraid that people wouldn’t understand or appreciate what he had collected.”
Eleanor nodded thoughtfully. “Charles was always passionate about history and art. After his wife died, he became much more private about his interests. I think he felt like people saw him as just a lonely old man rather than someone with deep knowledge and sophisticated tastes.”
The Moral Dilemma
The discovery of the hidden room and its contents presented Marcus with an unexpected moral dilemma. Legally, everything in the house belonged to him—he had purchased the property and everything in it from Morrison’s estate. The children who had inherited the house had sold it without apparently knowing about the hidden room or its contents.
But morally, the situation felt more complicated. These were clearly Morrison’s most prized possessions, hidden away in a moment of fear and paranoia. Did Marcus have the right to profit from this discovery, or should he try to contact Morrison’s family and return the items?
Marcus spent several sleepless nights wrestling with this question. On one hand, he desperately needed the money that these items could provide. The house restoration was far from complete, and his savings were nearly exhausted. The sale of even a few of the most valuable pieces could fund the remaining work and provide him with financial security for the first time in over a year.
On the other hand, these items clearly had sentimental as well as monetary value. They represented a lifetime of careful collecting and curation by a man who had loved and appreciated them.
The answer came to Marcus while reading through more of Morrison’s personal papers. Among the documents, he found a will that had apparently been drafted but never filed with the courts. In this document, Morrison expressed his frustration with his children’s lack of interest in his collections and their obvious eagerness to inherit his financial assets.
The will concluded with a remarkable statement: “To whoever finds my treasures after I am gone: You have proven yourself to be someone who values craftsmanship, beauty, and the preservation of what others would discard. These items belong to you not by law but by right of appreciation. Use them wisely, and remember that the greatest treasures are not always the most obvious ones.”
Using the Discovery Wisely
Armed with Morrison’s blessing, Marcus began the careful process of converting his discovery into the resources he needed to complete his house restoration. Rather than simply selling everything quickly, he took the time to research each item thoroughly and find buyers who would appreciate their historical and artistic value.
The rare book collection went to a specialized dealer who promised to find homes for the volumes with collectors who would continue to read and cherish them. Several of the coins were sold to numismatists who had been searching for exactly those pieces to complete their own collections.
Most significantly, the three paintings were authenticated by experts and sold through a reputable auction house. Two of them proved to be original works by artists whose pieces rarely came to market, and they sold for considerably more than Marcus had dared to hope.
The proceeds from these sales provided Marcus with enough money not only to complete his house restoration but to do it properly, with attention to historical accuracy and craftsmanship that would have made Morrison proud.
But Marcus also kept several items from the collection—books that particularly interested him, a few pieces of jewelry that he thought might one day make meaningful gifts, and one small painting that had hung above Morrison’s desk and seemed to represent the joy that the old man had found in beautiful things.
The Transformation Complete
Two years after discovering the hidden room, Marcus’s restoration of 847 Elm Street was complete. The Victorian mansion had been returned to its original glory while being updated with modern conveniences that made it comfortable for contemporary living.
The wraparound porch had been rebuilt with period-appropriate materials and techniques. The original windows had been restored to full functionality while maintaining their wavy-glass character. The interior featured refinished hardwood floors, carefully restored plaster work, and modern systems that were invisible but highly functional.
Most importantly, the hidden room had been preserved and restored as Morrison’s study, complete with the remaining books, the desk where Marcus had first read Morrison’s journal, and the small painting that had captured Marcus’s heart. It served as both a private office for Marcus and a memorial to the man whose foresight and passion had made the restoration possible.
“It’s absolutely magnificent,” Eleanor Hartley said during the open house that Marcus hosted to show off the completed restoration. “Charles would be so proud to see his house brought back to life like this.”
The restoration had attracted attention throughout the community and beyond. Marcus’s careful documentation of the process, including the discovery of the hidden room, had been featured in several magazines dedicated to historic preservation. The story had resonated with people who believed in the value of saving old buildings and the treasures they sometimes contained.
A New Beginning
The success of the house restoration led to opportunities that Marcus had never anticipated. His combination of construction skills, attention to historical detail, and ability to see potential in damaged properties made him a sought-after contractor for other restoration projects.
He established Webb Historic Restorations, specializing in the preservation and renovation of 19th and early 20th-century homes. The business grew quickly, fueled by Marcus’s reputation for quality work and his genuine passion for bringing old buildings back to life.
“The funny thing is,” Marcus reflected during an interview with a local newspaper, “I thought I was buying a house because I didn’t have any other choice. I never imagined that it would become the foundation for an entirely new career and a completely different life.”
The house on Elm Street became both Marcus’s home and the headquarters for his growing business. The restored Victorian served as a showcase of what was possible when someone was willing to see past surface damage to underlying value.
Marcus also found personal fulfillment in ways he hadn’t expected. The process of restoring the house had taught him patience, craftsmanship, and the satisfaction that comes from creating something beautiful with your own hands. He had discovered a calling that combined his analytical skills with manual labor and artistic vision.
Reflections on Hidden Treasures
Looking back on the experience, Marcus often thought about the various types of treasures he had discovered in the process of restoring 847 Elm Street. The obvious treasures were the valuable items that Morrison had hidden away—the books, coins, and artwork that had provided the financial resources to complete the restoration.
But there were other, perhaps more valuable treasures that Marcus had found along the way. He had discovered a passion for historic preservation that gave his life purpose and direction. He had found a community of neighbors and fellow craftspeople who appreciated his work and supported his vision. Most importantly, he had discovered his own resilience and capability in the face of overwhelming challenges.
“The real treasure,” Marcus often told clients who were considering their own restoration projects, “isn’t what you might find hidden in the walls. It’s what you discover about yourself when you commit to seeing something through from beginning to end.”
The hidden room had provided the dramatic turning point in Marcus’s story, but the real transformation had happened gradually, day by day, as he learned to see potential where others saw only problems and to believe in his ability to create something beautiful from something broken.
The Ripple Effects
The restoration of 847 Elm Street had effects that extended far beyond Marcus’s personal transformation. The project helped catalyze a broader revival of the historic district, as other property owners were inspired by what was possible when old buildings were treated with respect and imagination rather than demolished and replaced.
Eleanor Hartley often remarked that the entire neighborhood felt different after Marcus’s restoration was complete. Property values increased, but more importantly, there was a renewed sense of pride and possibility among residents who had watched their historic district decline for decades.
“It’s like Marcus reminded all of us that old doesn’t mean worthless,” she observed. “Sometimes the things that have been around the longest have the most to offer, if you’re willing to put in the work to uncover their potential.”
Several other homeowners in the district undertook their own restoration projects, often hiring Marcus’s company to help with the work. The success of these projects attracted new residents who were drawn to the character and craftsmanship of the old houses.
The hidden room discovery also sparked interest in the broader history of the neighborhood. Local historical society members began researching other houses in the district, uncovering stories about the families who had built and lived in these homes during the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
Lessons About Value and Potential
Marcus’s story became a favorite among people who believed in the value of preservation, second chances, and looking beyond surface appearances. The parallel between Marcus’s own situation—unemployed, divorced, nearly broke—and the condition of the house he chose to restore was not lost on those who heard the story.
Both Marcus and the house had been written off by most people as too damaged, too risky, too much work for too uncertain a return. But both had possessed underlying strength and potential that became apparent to someone willing to look carefully and work patiently.
“The most valuable things are often the ones that require the most effort to appreciate,” Marcus reflected during a speech to a historic preservation conference. “Whether it’s a damaged building or a person going through a difficult time, the potential is often there waiting for someone who believes it’s worth the investment.”
The story also highlighted the importance of understanding and respecting the past while adapting to present needs. Marcus’s restoration had preserved the architectural integrity and historic character of the house while making it functional for modern living. Similarly, his discovery and respectful handling of Morrison’s hidden treasures had honored the old man’s passion while allowing the items to find new purposes and new people to appreciate them.
The Continuing Story
Today, Marcus continues to live in the restored Victorian mansion, surrounded by the beauty he helped create and the community he helped strengthen. The hidden room remains his private office, where he plans new restoration projects and reflects on the journey that brought him to this unexpected place.
He often thinks about Charles Morrison and wonders what the old man would think of how his hidden treasures were used. The books that Marcus kept continue to be read and enjoyed. The artwork that remained in the house brings daily pleasure to someone who has learned to appreciate fine craftsmanship. The money that came from the sales funded not just one restoration but an entire career dedicated to preserving historic buildings.
“I think he would approve,” Marcus often tells visitors who ask about the hidden room and its former owner. “He wanted his treasures to go to someone who would value them properly. And in the end, they made it possible to restore his house to the glory he remembered from its best days.”
The story of 847 Elm Street continues to inspire people facing their own seemingly impossible challenges. It serves as a reminder that sometimes the most broken things hold the greatest potential, and that sometimes having nothing left to lose is exactly what gives you the courage to risk everything on a dream.
Marcus Webb learned that hidden rooms exist not just in old houses but in our own lives—spaces filled with potential and possibility that wait for us to be brave enough to break through the walls we’ve built and discover what treasures lie beyond our fears.
The house that everyone else saw as hopeless became the foundation of a new life. The hidden room that had been sealed away in fear became the source of restoration and renewal. And the man who thought he had lost everything discovered that sometimes you have to lose what you thought you wanted in order to find what you actually needed.
In the end, the most valuable discovery wasn’t what Charles Morrison had hidden away—it was what Marcus found within himself when he chose to see potential instead of problems, to invest hope instead of despair, and to believe that even the most broken things can be made beautiful again with enough patience, skill, and love.
