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The Miracle of the Fish

Still days away from payday, she had no food left to feed her family—until a fisherman she’d never met appeared on the scene.

A woman's hand placed on an airplane window while in flight

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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