I also loved to draw. Some of my earliest memories are sitting with a pencil in my hand, sketching whatever caught my imagination. In fifth grade, several classmates and I were chosen to create a coloring book about our hometown. At the time it seemed like just another school project, but today I realize it was one of the first times my creativity became something that others could enjoy.
By high school, I knew I wanted to build. I filled my schedule with as many trade classes as I could, fascinated by how things were designed and constructed. My favorite classes were in architectural drafting, where I spent four years learning design, competing in state competitions, and preparing for what I thought would become a career as an architect.
Then, just before graduation, I changed direction.
I realized I didn't just want to draw buildings—I wanted to build them. I wanted to understand every detail, every material, and every challenge that turned an idea on paper into a home where families could build their lives.
Professional Development and the costs of giving too much.
Another challenge was learning how to sell myself. Talking about my work never came naturally, so I pushed myself outside my comfort zone by joining networking organizations and eventually becoming active in the Home Builders Association. What started as attending meetings eventually led to leadership positions at the local level and later serving as President of the New Hampshire Home Builders Association.
I often found myself sitting in rooms with business owners, legislators, and industry leaders whom I believed were far beyond my abilities. Yet those experiences taught me one of life's greatest lessons: leadership isn't about being the smartest person in the room. It's about serving others, listening, learning, and helping people become better than they thought they could be.
One of my first responsibilities as President was writing a quarterly letter for the Home Builders Association magazine, which was distributed to suppliers, lumberyards, and building professionals throughout New Hampshire.
For someone who hated English in school and nearly failed the class, it was one of the biggest challenges I had ever faced. Many evenings, Bonnie sat beside me as we edited, rewrote, and polished those articles together. It wasn't always easy, but through her encouragement, plenty of constructive criticism, and a determination not to give up, I became a better communicator and learned that even my greatest weaknesses could become strengths if I was willing to work at them.
As my business continued to grow, so did the demands on my time. The company I had built slowly became my entire life. Between projects, leadership responsibilities, meetings, travel, and the paperwork waiting for me every evening, I often worked close to eighty hours a week.
Without realizing it, I slowly stopped being the creative person I had always been.
The furniture I used to build for our home disappeared. The little projects I once enjoyed were replaced by deadlines and responsibilities. I no longer fixed old things simply because I enjoyed bringing them back to life. Somewhere along the way, I stopped creating for myself.
Eventually, I accepted an opportunity to join Da Brothers Contractors, hoping it would give me more time with my family. While I was no longer running my own company, I discovered something surprising—I had changed. Years of building a business had made me a workaholic. I didn't know how to stop.
The hardest lesson of my life wasn't learning how to build a home.
It was realizing that no career, no title, and no accomplishment is worth sacrificing the people you love. Bonnie had stood beside me through every challenge, every risk, and every success, yet I had allowed work to consume so much of who I was that I had begun losing sight of the life we had built together.
That realization changed everything.
One of our Newest Projects
I made a decision to find myself again—not the businessman or the builder, but the creative young boy who loved making something out of nothing. I picked up a paintbrush. I began building furniture again. I started repairing old pieces, improving our home, taking photographs, and spending time outdoors. Most importantly, I learned to slow down enough to enjoy life with the woman who had always been there beside me.
That journey eventually led me somewhere I never expected.
One evening an idea came into my mind that refused to leave. I sat down and began writing. I wasn't a reader growing up, and I certainly never imagined I'd become an author. Yet that single idea grew into my first novel, Angel in the Night. As I wrote, I realized I wasn't simply telling a story—I was sharing the values that had shaped my own life: love, faith, hope, perseverance, family, forgiveness, and the belief that ordinary people can live extraordinary lives.
Today I still work hard, and I probably always will. But I also know when it's time to come home. Every afternoon and every weekend, I make a conscious effort to invest in the people and passions that matter most.
Everything you'll find on this website—my writing, paintings, photography, furniture, designs, and the projects I continue to help create with my team at Da Brothers Contractors and Homestead Covered Bridge Kitchen & Design—is a reflection of that journey. They are more than projects. They are pieces of my life, my imagination, and my belief that we are all capable of creating something meaningful. My hope is that somewhere within these pages you'll find a story, a painting, an idea, or an experience that inspires you to create something lasting in your own life.
A.M. Champney
Hands that
Build Stories
People often ask how I became a builder, an author, or an artist. The truth is that I don't think I ever chose any one of those paths. I've simply been creating for as long as I can remember.
As a young boy, I was always taking things apart to see how they worked. If something was broken, I wanted to fix it. If it couldn't be repaired, I'd save the parts and build something new. I only had one brand-new bicycle growing up. Most of the time, my father and I would visit the local landfill looking for discarded bikes so I could gather the pieces and build my own. Looking back, those trips taught me a lesson that has stayed with me my entire life: almost everything has value if you're willing to see its potential.
Like many young tradesmen, my first few years in construction were spent searching for my place. Everything changed when I met a gentleman who took the time to teach me how to run projects the right way. He taught me far more than construction. He taught me leadership, planning, craftsmanship, communication, and the responsibility that comes with earning someone's trust.
Those lessons became the foundation of my career. As my experience grew, I began designing the homes I was building, combining my love of architecture with hands-on craftsmanship. Around that same time, I met the love of my life, my wife Bonnie. Together we began building something even more important than a business—we built a life.
With Bonnie's encouragement, I took a leap of faith and started Buddy Champney Builder, a company I owned and operated for twenty-three years. During that time I designed and built custom homes, renovations, and additions throughout New Hampshire, helping families turn their dreams into reality.
I have always believed that if you stop learning, you stop growing. To become a better designer, I taught myself CAD despite having almost no computer experience. It wasn't easy, but I stayed with it. As technology evolved, so did I. I continued studying building codes, structural design, estimating, project management, and every aspect of residential construction that could make me a better builder and a better leader.
A Craftsman's Prayer
Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the gifts You have given me—the ability to create, to solve problems, and to work with my hands. Every project is an opportunity to serve others, and I pray that I never lose sight of the responsibility that comes with that privilege.
Grant me wisdom to make the right decisions, patience when challenges arise, and the integrity to always choose what is right over what is easy. Help me remember that true craftsmanship is measured not only by the quality of the finished product, but by the honesty, respect, and care shown throughout the journey.
Protect everyone who works beside me and every family who will one day call these spaces home. Keep us safe from harm, guide our hands, and remind us that no deadline is more important than a life.
Teach me to listen before I speak, to lead by example, and to encourage those who are still learning the trade. Give me the humility to continue learning, knowing that no craftsman ever knows it all.
May the homes we build provide comfort, security, and lasting memories. May every project reflect excellence, and may every customer leave knowing they were treated with fairness and respect.
Above all, let my work honor You. May my life be remembered not only for the things I built, but for the character, kindness, and faith with which I built them.
In Jesus' name,
Amen.
Faith
My Faith
I don't attend church regularly, but I was raised to believe in God, and I seek His guidance in my heart every day. I believe faith is less about where we worship and more about how we live—treating others with kindness, honesty, compassion, and respect.
I've met pastors whose wisdom has stayed with me because they understood that life isn't always fair. They taught me it's okay to question, to grieve, and even to be angry with God during life's hardest moments. Those feelings don't separate us from Him. They remind us that we're human.
I don't pretend to understand why difficult things happen. I simply believe that every joy, every hardship, and every loss has a purpose, even if I can't always see it. Some lessons shape who we become, while others may touch the lives of people we'll never know.
One of the greatest reminders in my life came from the Serenity Prayer that hung on my grandmother's wall:
"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference."
Those words have guided me throughout my life. They remind me to focus on what I can do, accept what I cannot, and trust that God has a purpose greater than I can always understand. I believe He has given each of us unique gifts and abilities, and I try to use mine to build, create, teach, encourage others, and leave the world a little better than I found it. If I can do that with integrity and compassion, then I believe I'm honoring both the gifts He's given me and the life He's entrusted to me.
Values That Anchor Us
What Hard Work Means to Me
Hard work may not always make you rich in money, but it will make you rich in character.
If the journey weren't difficult, there would be very little to learn. The challenges, setbacks, failures, and victories are what shape us into better people. Growth rarely comes easy. Becoming better requires effort, patience, humility, and the willingness to keep moving forward even when the path is difficult.
I've learned that hard work isn't about working the longest hours or sacrificing everything else in life. It's about giving your best, taking pride in what you do, and having the integrity to do things the right way—even when no one is watching.
I believe God gave each of us unique gifts and abilities. It is our responsibility to develop those gifts, to use them to help others, and to leave every person, every project, and every opportunity a little better than we found it.
Money can come and go, but character stays with you. It's built one decision at a time, one challenge at a time, and one lesson at a time. In the end, I don't believe we're remembered for what we owned. I believe we're remembered for who we became, how we treated others, and the difference we made along the way.
For me, that is the true reward of hard work.
Hard Work
When people hear the word family, they often think of those connected by blood. My wife, my children, my grandchildren, my mother, my nieces and nephews, my aunts and uncles—they are all an important part of who I am.
But over the years, I've learned that blood alone doesn't make a family.
Family is made up of the people who become part of your heart. They're the ones who stand beside you through life's victories and disappointments, celebrate your successes, help carry your burdens, and leave a piece of themselves with you along the way. Sometimes they share your last name. Sometimes they don't.
One of the greatest blessings in my life has been my children. While we don't share the same blood, they have never been anything less than my children. I never saw them as "stepchildren." They are simply my kids, and I love them with all my heart.
My only regret is that they came into my life as teenagers. We didn't have all those childhood years together, and before I knew it, they were beginning lives of their own. I would have loved more time—more conversations, more adventures, and more of those ordinary days that eventually become our most treasured memories. Even so, I couldn't be prouder of the people they have become or more grateful that God brought them into my life.
I've also found family in places many people don't expect. I've found it among the people I've worked beside for years. The men and women I've sweated with, solved problems with, laughed with, and faced challenges with. Sharing difficult days has a way of creating bonds that go far beyond a paycheck. Those experiences teach trust, loyalty, and respect, and often those coworkers become lifelong friends.
Community is an extension of that same idea.
It's knowing where your roots are, even if the landscape has changed. It's driving past an old field and saying, "That used to be my great-grandfather's farm." It's remembering the people who came before you and realizing that, in many ways, you're still walking the paths they helped create.
Community is the neighbors who show up when someone needs a hand, the local businesses that support one another, the people who celebrate your successes and stand beside you through your hardships. Those connections may not always be as visible as they once were, but they're still there, woven into the places we call home and the memories we carry with us.
Life also has a wonderful way of surprising us. Sometimes we discover family we never knew existed. Other times, we meet someone who, from that moment on, simply belongs in our lives.
To me, family has never been defined by blood alone. It is defined by love, loyalty, shared memories, and the bonds we build over a lifetime.
In the end, I don't believe our greatest wealth is found in what we own. It's found in the people who have walked beside us, the memories we've created together, and the love we leave behind. Those are the things that truly become our legacy.
Family & Community
