"There's a wreck offshore, about a century old. The story goes that the lighthouse drew the ship in, giving her hope in the middle of an October gale, and then suddenly, poof! The light vanished. The schooner sank just yards from the harbor," Sandra said.
Bitterness filled Anne's chest again. Wasn't that how life worked? When she thought she was safe in the middle of God's hand, He dropped her. Her warm knitted world unraveled, the guiding light snuffed. "That's a terrible story."
Sandra pointed at a white bungalow beside the lighthouse. "Yes, but that's not the end. The lighthouse keeper saw the light blow out and knew the ship was in trouble. He took his own whaler out in th middle of the gale, risking his life. Moments after the ship went down, he rescued the survivors. Not a soul perished." Sandra touched Anne's hand. "In the darkest moment, God's always there."
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