Jacob de Jager once spoke of his native Holland, and the little coastal fishing village where he grew up. He tells the story of one night a severe storm hit the area of that village, and a ship was in distress off the coast.

Volunteers manned the rowboats to go out and rescue the crew. Against the enormous waves the rescuers gave all the strength they could muster to reach the stricken ship, but when they loaded the crew, there was one man too many. If they took him aboard, it would swamp the rescue boat. They had no choice but to leave him behind.

The rescue crew turned their boat for shore and aimed for the torches, and rode with all of their strength. Well, once safely ashore, they were just too exhausted to go back out for the last man. The call went out among the villagers gathered on the beach for volunteers to man the rescue boat and save the lone survivor.

Without hesitation, a 19-year-old young man named Hans stepped forward. And as he did so, his mother panicked.

“Hans,” she pleaded, “please don’t go! Your father died at sea; your older brother Pete has been missing for months now; you’re the only son left to me.”

“Mom,” he said, “I have to do it. It’s my duty!”

As his mother wept and paced the beach, Hans boarded the boat, took the oars, and set off into the darkness. After what seemed like an eternity, but was really only a little more than an hour, Hans’ boat came into site.

Immediately, the captain of the local coast guard called out, “Did you save him?”

The people lighting the sea with their torches saw Hans rise off his rowing bench and shout back, “Yes! And tell my mother it’s my brother Pete!”