The story is told of the pioneer days in our country. A man was making his way west when he came to the Missouri River. It was winter and the ice covered the river from bank to bank. But how could the man be sure it would hold his weight? He knew people often drowned in that river when the ice broke. Yet he had to cross. He walked out a little way, then gripped with fear he crawled on his hands and knees. He looked back and saw how far the bank was now behind him and knew he would drown if the ice broke and the frigid water swallowed him up. To spread his weight even more, he lay out flat on his belly and slowly drew himself sliding across the river a few inches at time. All of a sudden from behind him he heard whistling. He whipped his head around and there saw a big man, a farmer, walking across the ice leading a team of horses drawing a heavy wooden sleigh full of hay. He was smiling and whistling and tipped his hat. The timid man stood and brushed off the ice crystals and managed a sheepish smile. That old farmer had crossed the ice many times and knew it could be trusted.