Strands of wire lie rusting in a heap. Pieces of someones history pulled apart by time and circumstance. Angry words and unhealed wounds leave the fence in tatters. Sometimes the pieces must be picked up. With a strong resolve and a lot of sweat, slowly the strands are woven back together. Some are patched and some new pieces are added. Until the fence is strong and vibrant again. From pole to pole, from friend to friend.,the fences are mended and made right. Now things are as they should be. Past mistakes are forgiven, wounds are healed and the open holes in the fences are fixed for good.