A Feeding Trough
"It's beautiful," the young woman with curly brown said, walking a complete circle around the rustic creation. The old man, a carpenter by trade, wearing denim overalls that had seen paints of various colors, looked at the product of wood and nails. He chewed on a bit of tobacco while resting his thick hands on his workbench. "It's a feeding trough," he responded. "Nothing special about a feeding trough." "Don't you see? The wood is perfect." "That's the wood your father wanted me to use. Said he got those pieces of timber from some old barn next town over. Some of the boards were beyond use, rotted. Did what I could." "It's perfect," she exclaimed a second time. "For feeding animals, yes. There is no beauty in rough lumber that will do nothing more than hold feed for sheep and donkeys." The young woman walked over to the trough and placed her hand on the wood. It was rough, just as the car...