The only survivor of a shipwreck washed up on a small, uninhabited island. He prayed feverishly to be rescued, and every day he scanned the horizon for help, but none seemed forthcoming.

Exhausted, he eventually managed to build a little hut out of driftwood and dry palm fronds to protect him from the elements, and to store the few possessions he'd saved from the wreck.

But then one day after scavenging for food he came back to his hut to find that his campfire embers had blown into the dry palm branches. His little hut had erupted into flames and the smoke was rolling up into the sky.

The worst had happened; absolutely everything was lost. He was stung with grief and anger. "God, how could you do this to me!" he cried.

Early the next day, however, he was awakened by the sound of a ship that was approaching the island. It had come to rescue him.

"How did you know I was here?" asked the weary man of his rescuers. "We saw your smoke signal," they replied.