When glass breaks, the fracture reaches beyond the material. Glass holds light, but it also anchors memory—tangible proof of a shared journey, a quiet corner of home, or a loved one who is gone.

After any great loss, we eventually face the task of building our lives anew. A dear friend, Leslie, experienced that weight when her husband passed away. Years earlier, while traveling together through Germany, they had found an unadorned pane of antique stained glass and brought it home as a keepsake of a happy time. In the grief that followed his death, the pane fell and broke into shards. Leslie gathered every piece, keeping them safe because letting them go felt unthinkable.

When she asked if I could reassemble the pane, I looked at the fractured edges and knew that piecing them back together wasn’t the answer. A patchwork of repair lines would only memorialize an accident. Her memories of him were living and bright, and they deserved an expression of enduring warmth, not cracked glass.

Instead of mending the past, we transformed it. While most pieces demand long deliberation at the bench, this design came almost on its own—soaring upward with energy, sunrise warmth, and rhythm. I shaped her salvaged shards and built them into a completely new window dedicated to life, renewal, and hope.

We titled the piece Re-Birth.

Not all repairs are quite so emotional, of course. Sometimes an accident is just an accident—a cracked lamp panel, a bowed transom, or an heirloom window that simply needs fresh lead and careful hands. Whatever the project, I do solid, meticulous work and charge a fair price.

If you have a piece that needs attention, send me a message using the form below. Let me know what you need, and if possible, include a few clear photos of the damage so I can get a sense of what will be involved.

All the best,

Howard Mendelson