A cold crescent moon reflected on the small lake on a November night in 1874. The little lake near August Hertwig’s cabin was rimmed with early ice. Frozen glass-like shards created tiny fairy-sounds along the ever-widening glaze around the margins of the shore.
The waterfowl which had been August’s vocal friends for the summer, took flight in the moonlight, heading south. Silence permeated the scene now; the great leaving struck a sudden loneliness in the solitary pastor’s heart. The power of the Word gave comfort as winter closed in on his new home: “Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted.” Psalm 25:16