Long ago there was a man who lived in a dusty village in the middle of nowhere. He married and had two children, a son and a daughter. He worked hard at his business. He was very happy. But his young daughter died of an infection, and his young son drowned in the sea. For a while the man and his wife were inconsolable, but one day they found to their joy that they were expecting another child. All seemed well again. The delivery, however, was unexpectedly difficult, and despite the midwife's best efforts, both mother and baby perished in childbirth. Now the man was utterly desolated. His relatives and the other townspeople shunned him, considering him bad luck, perhaps even accursed. His business failed. He lost his house and all his possessions. With nothing left to live for, he set off wandering. When happy and carefree, he had never asked deep questions. Now that he had lost everything, he felt the need for answers. Remarkably enough, he found them. Out of his great loss and terrible pain came new insight. Like metal hardened and purified in a forge, he had been made new by all that he had suffered. And soon you could find him on the seashore, talking to the fishermen. "Come with me," he told them, "and I will make you fishers of men."