Ole was walking through the mountains of Norway on his way to visit Lena, and he was thinking more about the supper she had planned instead of where he was walking. All of a sudden, he slipped and slid over the edge of the cliff beside the mountain path. About twenty feet down and with several hundred more feet to go, he frantically grabbed onto a bush that moved but held for the moment.

There he was, hanging by a bush above certain death, and his hands began to perspire and tire almost immediately. "Is anyone up there?" Ole hollered.

"I'm here, Ole," came the deep voice from above. "Who's there? Can you help me?" Ole yelled back. The voice answered, "It's the Lord, Ole. Let go and I will save you."

Ole looked down and he looked up and he looked at his slipping hands and he looked down again and he looked up again. Finally he yelled back up the side of the cliff, "Is anyone else up there?"