It was early morning when David approached the little pier near his family's cottage. A heavy thick mist rose over the still waters of the lake.

“The fog is unusually thick,” he thought as he began to prepare his boat for another day's work.

David was a ferryman. For a fee, he would carry travelers across the lake which lay on the border between his country and the next. He was only eighteen, but the circumstances of his difficult life had formed him into a strong young man in mind and heart and body. His father had been dead for four years. He had been a ferryman too. In fact, David's family had carried strangers across this lake for more than a hundred years. There were roads from one country to the other, but one path snaked through the mountains to the north and could be difficult, even in good weather. The road to the south was leveled but it was long and passed occasionally through sections of forest where thieves waited to attack any traveler who appeared weak or unarmed.

Generally, though, enough people desired to cross by water to keep David's family out of poverty. But for the last several years, there was a growing tension between the two countries and the flow of travelers knocking at the cottage door was reduced to a trickle. There was even talk of war breaking out and David worried how he would care for his mother. But she was a devout Catholic who had a great love for God and confidence in the Blessed Virgin. She had often encouraged David to pray more and read spiritual books. But like most men, David believed that God was out doing His work and wanted David to stay busy with his own. Except for Mass on Sunday, religion was mainly for the women and the children.

It had been several days since anyone had come, looking to pay for his services and David's concerns for the welfare of his mother and himself was beginning to overtake him. He sat by the water, listening to the stillness in the air as the fog seemed to increase. From deep within him, a prayer of sorts began to emerge.

“God, if there is a God.... I guess there must be a God... God, if You can hear me, You know I've never really asked you for anything, especially since you took my father away from us...”. Something was stirring inside of him and his thoughts became transformed into words aimed at Heaven and rippling out over the water like a wave. He was standing now facing the water.

“God, you know that we are decent people. What harm have we ever done to anyone? And my mother. She has a great love for You and a confidence in Your mother to intercede for us. But my father is dead and the talk of war keeps travelers from coming and soon we will have nothing to eat. If you will not help us for my sake, at least for the sake of my mother, whom I love as much as you love yours.”

And then he stood there, half expecting something without knowing what it might be. He stood waiting for an answer to the first prayer that he had uttered in four years. Nothing. Just silence and the quiet sound of those creatures that lived in and near the lake. David sat down hard.

“I thought not!” He took a rock and threw it as far as he could into the fog. In a few moments he heard it splash somewhere deep in the mist.

“Can you take us across the lake?”

David must have been so distracted by his thoughts, he had not noticed the travelers that now stood near the pier. There was a man with a young woman, who appeared very sad. It looked as though she had been crying recently. They both had on cloaks that fell from their shoulders to the ground with hoods covering their heads. In the man's arms, was a young boy covered with a type of shawl. The boy looked ill, maybe even dying. The travelers seemed weary, as though they had been traveling a long distance. The woman refused to look at David. She kept her hand on the boy's heart, holding the child's hands there, while she stared down, eyes full of grief.

“The boy” David remarked. “He's sick?” The man gently nodded and seemed to grimace at the thought of the child's health.

“It's nothing contagious, is it?” questioned David, backing up a step or two. The woman started sobbing quietly as the man responded with a great heaviness in his voice.

“You have nothing to fear, David. Can you take us?”

The thought of paying customers quickly put aside any fear David may have had about carrying the sick lad in his boat.

“We can leave right now, if you're ready.” The man quietly nodded as he helped the woman and the child onto the boat. David stepped forward. “Because the boy can't sit up on his own, but is laying down instead in the boat – he'll have to be full fare.”

The man responded with a deep sigh. “You'll be well paid.”

Using an oar, David pushed away from the shore and then made his way to the front of the boat, where he sat facing his passengers. Once everyone was secure and seated, he began to row through the shroud of fog.

For a while, no one said anything. David looked from one to the other, studying these three strangers that he was carrying across the lake. He tried to study the face of the man and the young woman, but the hoods prevented him from analyzing them too closely. Were they related? Was she his wife? His sister? Was the boy their's? Or his or hers? The woman was obviously upset. And the man seemed tired and sad. Maybe it was the sick child that was the reason. Was the child dying? What was wrong with him? Were they fleeing from something? They seemed to have an urgent purpose in their trip. Were they trying to get somewhere?

David kept turning his questions over in his mind. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him.