No other family lived near them on the mountain. But this family was never lonely. They enjoyed each other’s company, and often had visitors. Their house was built near an important road that connected the White Mountains to the Saint Lawrence River. People traveling through the mountains in wagons always stopped at the family’s door for a drink of water and a friendly word. Lonely travelers, crossing the mountains on foot, would step into the house to share a hot meal. Sometimes, the wind became so wild and cold that these strangers would spend the night with the family. The family offered every traveler who stopped at their home a kindness that money could not buy. On that December evening, the wind came rushing down the mountain. It seemed to stop at their house to knock at the door before it roared down into the valley. The family fell silent for a moment. But then they realized that someone really was knocking at their door. The oldest girl opened the door and found a young man standing in the dark.