“ARE YOU CATCHING ANY FISH?” I asked the first time I saw him on the pier. “No, never.” he said as he cast. “Then why do you come here?” I asked. “It isn’t about the fish” he answered. “Then what is it about?” I asked. He pointed to the sky, the water, the horizon, the dimly-lit houses dotting the distant shore. “This is my church, Rev.” he said. Almost every day, except winter, he is there. He has become like a brother to me, as we pass the offering basket of love between the souls of our two-person-congregation. Peace, Dwight Lee Wolter