Most of the time, when someone brings us a Bible for conservation, we know what to expect: careful cleaning, sturdy re-sewing, a traditional rebinding in leather. It's the kind of work where reverence and tradition guide every step.

So when a young mother recently asked us to take care of her Bible, we nodded along. Yes, yes - conservation. Yes, yes - new leather. And then, a few days later, came the curveball:

"Could you rebind it...in a Coptic style?"

Cue the sound of two bookbinders blinking in unison.

For context: the Coptic binding is one of the oldest book structures we know - used by the early Christians of Egypt, known as the Copts. Its exposed stitching and flexible opening make it a favorite for modern journals. But it's not what you'd usually picture for a modern Bible.

Except...maybe it makes a strange kind of sense. By asking us to bind her Bible in this style, this young woman was - whether she realized it or not - sending it "home."

And here's the difference: we're no longer bound (pun intended) by the institutional rules of conservation. Our work isn't about following regulations to the letter - it's about listening. If there's a way to give someone what they want for their book, we'll find it.

And she wasn't done surprising us. After deciding to lose the leather, she came back with her daughter's swaddle blanket and asked us to use that fabric for the covers. Suddenly, this Bible wasn't just a sacred text - it was a family story, stitched together across generations.

We were surprised. Amused. And then, honestly? Delighted. Because in that moment, we were reminded that tradition doesn't have to be rigid. Sometimes the most meaningful books are the ones that break expectations. 

So yes, we did it. A Coptic-bound Bible, wrapped in the fabric of a child's earliest days. And it's beautiful.

Lesson? Books carry legacy, but they also carry life. And sometimes the best way to honor both is to step outside tradition and say yes to the unexpected.