Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a
  family with eighteen children.  Eighteen!  In order merely to keep food on
  the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith
  by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any
  other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood.
  
  Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the
  Elder's children had a dream.  They both wanted to pursue their talent for
  art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially
  able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.
   
  After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys
  finally worked out a pact.  They would toss a coin.  The loser would go
  down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother
  while he attended the academy.  Then, when that brother who won the toss
  completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother
  at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by
  laboring in the mines.
   
  They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church.  Albrecht Durer won
  the toss and went off to Nuremberg.  Albert went down into the dangerous
  mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at
  the academy was almost an immediate sensation.  Albrecht's etchings, his
  woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his
  professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn
  considerable fees for his commissioned works.
  
  When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a
  festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant
  homecoming.  After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and
  laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the
  table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice
  that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition.  His closing  words
  were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn.  Now
  you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of
  you."
   
  All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where
  Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head
  from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No ...no
  ...no ...no."
   
  Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks.  He glanced down
  the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to
  his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg.
  It is too late for me.  Look ... look what four years in the mines have
  done to my hands!  The bones in every finger have been smashed at least
  once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right
  hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make
  delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush.  No,
  brother...for me it is too late."
   
  More than 450 years have passed.  By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of
  masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors,
  charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum in
  the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar
  with only one of Albrecht Durer's works.  More than merely being familiar
  with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or
  office.
  
  One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht
  Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together
  and thin fingers stretched skyward.  He called his powerful drawing simply
  "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to
  his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love "The Praying Hands."
  
  The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second
  look.  Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one-no one
  - ever makes it alone!