She is a child, no older than 5, when she sees him. He walks about the town, window shopping, minding his own business. She doesn’t understand. He is nothing like anyone else. She is captivated by the glow he emits. She is entranced by his mysteriousness. While everyone chats happily and shops, he sits alone, seeming very content.
She realizes that she is staring, and turns away, but not before he turns around and sees her; with bright blue-green eyes that bore into her very soul. She looks away, embarrassed that he’d caught her staring. This man comes over to her, gracefully walking in a way that she doesn’t understand. She watches his feet effortlessly glide over the pavement, as if he isn’t touching it at all.
When he reaches her, she suddenly doesn’t feel the need to hide. With a firm hand, she pulls off her wig to reveal her bald head. He doesn’t seem surprised. He sits on the edge of the hospital bed and they talk. Not with words, not with sentences, but with eyes. Her eyes tell him of the pain and suffering. His eyes are comforting and tell her that all shall be well.
Later on that day, the little girl starts gasping for air. No matter how hard she tries, she can’t catch her breath. The doctors run over and try to help her but it is no use.  He watches from the side.
That stranger, that mysterious man, takes the little girl away this day. He takes her to judgment and she passes.  She holds his hand, clad in silver and draped in mist they walk away together. She stands up from the bed and together they walk. Past her sobbing parents, past her weeping sisters. They don’t seem him, and now they don’t see her either. Their destination? No one here knows. But he knows the way there. And she believes in him.