On the ground lay a piece of wood, it was aged and stained with red. How peculiar I thought to see such a sight, near a barren and bleak hilltop. In a moment I pondered what it meant, then a stranger happened on my way. I ask if he knew what the wood had been and he said do you see the barren hill. I looked on and replied yes, he then said in a voice very still. Not so long ago, there a man died, upon this very piece of wood he did hang. Nails were driven through his hands and feet until his blood upon the rugged wood ran free. I felt horrified at such a thing, but he said do not be startled, for this had to be. I reached down and picked up the wood as I began to shake. I felt such love and sorrow as I touched the stained wood, then the stranger again began to speak. He said that I should not worry for the person who had been hanged you see, was a savior that died for a sinner like me. Then he asked if he could have the wood, and as I put it into his hands, I saw nail scars then he was gone, leaving me alone again. A peace settled over me, like nothing I had ever know, for a carpenter had come to reclaim his wood you see and to show me that I am not forgotten or alone by the one who died for me .