Saturday morning and all I had in the house was a half box of rice. What am I going to do for the rest of the week? I thought as I cooked it up for my three children. On my salary, the last week of the month was always a struggle. This month it seemed impossible.
I sent the kids out to play and took a walk on the docks. Tourists strolled past. I dangled my feet in the water and tried to figure out how to make ends meet.
My eye fell on a small dot in the distance. As it came closer to shore it became a small boat, about 14 feet long. It pulled up to the very dock where I sat. A man with snowy white hair and sky blue eyes stepped out of the cabin. He wore yellow waders, like he was a deep-sea fisherman.
“Hey, lady,” he said to me. “Would you like some fish?”
I must have nodded, because he hoisted a bushel full onto the dock. It was too big to carry myself. Luckily I spotted a neighbor who could help with the load.
“Thank you,” I said, turning back to the fisherman but he–and his boat–had disappeared into thin air.
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