Jay Herndon is a missionary to a poor mining village in Ireland. He wrote a story that I recently read, telling of something that happened in that village. One cold evening, the company bus, filled with the men of the village after a long day of work, was returning from the mine. The road was slick with ice on that dark winter evening. To the left of the bus was a mountainous wall and to the right was a sheer cliff. It was a very narrow, dangerous road.