Long ago, several large ships set sail from the south, heading north toward the coldest place on Earth—the Arctic. No one lived there, and there were no roads, only thick ice and ceaselessly blowing cold winds. The ships’ purpose was to see what the world’s northernmost point truly looked like, whether there was land, and if one could reach the very end.
They had been navigating these icy seas for years. Along the way, they had endured blizzards and collided with drifting ice, their hulls creaking and cracking from the freezing cold. Now, winter had truly arrived. The sun vanished, and for weeks on end, the sky remained dark. There was only night, no day.
Ice stretched endlessly in every direction. The ships were frozen solid in the ice, unable to move. The crew had no choice but to build small shelters on the snow. These shelters were made of snow blocks, shaped like round nests. Some could house one person, while larger ones could accommodate three or four. From a distance, they resembled a cluster of giant snowballs lying on the ice.
Yet it isn’t entirely dark here. A strange light often appears in the sky—like colorful ribbons drifting through the air, shifting from red to blue, flickering and dazzlingly beautiful. This is called the “Northern Lights.” The snow on the ground also reflects light, making the entire world seem bathed in evening glow—quiet and mysterious.
The People in the Igloos
When the sky is brightest, the local indigenous people emerge. Clad in thick animal furs and wearing furry hats, they appear as if sprouted from the snow itself. They haul goods on sleds made of ice, piled high with animal hides. These hides serve as floor coverings, keeping sleepers warm beneath them. At night, they double as blankets.
Outside, the cold was terrifying—ten times colder than our harshest winters. Yet inside the igloo, wrapped in these furs, one could sleep warmly.
At this time, people in the south were still experiencing autumn. Leaves turned yellow, and the wind grew cooler. Even those in the Arctic remembered home. They recalled the sun’s warmth on their faces, the crimson leaves on the trees, the paths leading to their doorsteps, and the familiar houses.
One young sailor lay on the animal skins inside the igloo, preparing for sleep. Beside him lay a thick book, his most treasured possession—the Bible. His grandmother had placed it in his hands before he set out, saying, “Carry it with you, and it will be as if I am with you.”
Every night, he placed the book beneath his pillow. As a child, his grandmother had taught him to read its verses. His favorite passage was: “If I take to the skies and dwell in the farthest reaches of the world, your hand will still hold me, your hand will still protect me.”
Whenever he read these words, his heart grew still. He feared neither the darkness nor the cold.
A Warm Dream
He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off. Then he had a dream.
In the dream, he felt a gentle light shining down from above—not the sun, nor a lamp, but a soft glow like spring sunshine. Opening his eyes, he saw a figure standing before him, human yet otherworldly—an angel.
This angel emerged from the Bible beneath his pillow, unfolding like a lily slowly opening its petals. He bore a pair of large wings that emitted a soft glow. When he reached out and touched the ice walls of the hut, they dissolved like mist.
Suddenly, he saw his homeland.
Green grass, yellow leaves, distant hills and forests. Autumn sunlight warmed the fields. His home was still there—a small farmhouse. A green birdcage hung by the window, a myna bird inside singing. That song, he had taught it when he was young.
Grandmother stood in the yard, placing food in the cage. She looked up and smiled. Nearby, the blacksmith’s daughter walked from the well carrying a bucket, waving to Grandmother. Grandmother held a letter in her hand, just received, bearing an address from the North Pole.
“It’s from him!” Grandmother told the girl, her eyes sparkling.
They laughed and cried together. The letter read: “I am far away, but I am not afraid, for I know someone is watching over me.”
The sailor in the dream laughed and cried too. Though he lay in the frozen wilderness, he felt as if he stood beside them, reading those words together: “Even if I dwell in the farthest reaches of the world, your hand will hold mine.”
Then, the sound of many voices singing filled the air, like reciting an ancient poem. An angel stood beside him, wings gently spread, enveloping him like a cloud.
The Dream Ended, but the Warmth Remained
The dream ended. He opened his eyes. The igloo was still dark; he could see nothing. The Northern Lights had faded, and only the wind whistled outside.
Yet he felt no fear. He reached beneath his pillow and found the Bible still there. Gently, he lifted it and held it close.
He knew the dream was not real, but the feelings within it were. His grandmother’s smile, the sunlight of home, the song of the magpie—all remained within him. More importantly, those words lingered: “Your hand will hold mine.”
He closed his eyes, his heart at peace. Though thousands of miles from home, surrounded by ice and snow, he did not feel alone. For he knew someone far away was thinking of him, and someone in heaven was watching over him.
Home isn’t necessarily a place. Sometimes, home is a feeling—knowing someone is waiting for you, someone believes in you, someone is praying for you.
With these thoughts, he slowly drifted back to sleep.That night, he slept soundly.
The Truth Behind the Story
This story isn’t just about a sailor’s dream in the Arctic; it’s about what sustains a person in the loneliest, coldest moments. That sailor carried no gold or silver, only a book. But that book gave him strength, keeping him from fear in the darkness and despair in the cold.
His dream was actually the deepest longing in his heart. He missed home and his loved ones, but he couldn’t return. So his heart brought home to him through dreams. The angel didn’t truly fly out of the book; it was the hope within him taking shape.
The Arctic is far away, but love can bridge any distance. A letter, a word, an old song—any of these can make someone feel, “I am still loved.”
What Lesson Does This Story Teach Us?
- What truly matters is often invisible. The sailor carried many supplies, yet what sustained him most was an old book and a cherished saying. Sometimes, a single phrase holds more power than a sack of money.
- In our darkest moments, what we need isn’t more material things, but hope and connection.When he dreamed of his family or heard the song, the cold faded. This shows that humans cannot live by food and clothing alone—we need love and memories too.
- Faith and memories are light in the darkness. He believed that phrase was true, so even in the freezing snow, he felt someone holding his hand. This isn’t superstition—it’s inner strength.
- Home isn’t necessarily a place; it can also be in your heart. You may be far from home, but as long as you remember those warm moments, home will always be with you.
So, this story wants to say:
When you feel lonely, cold, and unable to go on, don’t forget to look back— those who love you have never truly left.
