In the midst of a tempestuous night, rife with thunder and driving rain, a steam paddle boat, billowing thick smoke, inched its way towards the harbor. However, the journey was far from calm. The vessel was relentlessly tossed by the surging waves and gusting winds, each sway threatening to capsize it. The crew clung onto ropes, struggling to manage the vessel's direction and speed. Water from the churning sea sprayed up from the stern, soaking the ship's hull and deck, as if forewarning an imminent overturn. Even their desperate pleas of "God save us" could not mask the panic and anxiety they felt. Finally, under the onslaught of the raging sea, the teetering ship managed to reach the harbor.

In the dark cover of night, the harbor's hanging lamps swayed relentlessly in the gale, their metallic clashing a dissonant chorus against the storm. The port's buildings and docks were shrouded in inky blackness, rendering them indistinguishable. The chill wind howled, and the freezing rain stung like needles against the skin, disheveling the captain and the crew's clothing, their faces drenched from the relentless rain and sea spray. The captain, cradling an infant merely a few days old, led the crew off the steam paddle boat. Their brows were furrowed, constantly adjusting their soaking clothes, a palpable air of fatigue surrounding them.

Waiting for them was a woman, her anxiety evident. She stood with her back to the storm, her hands clenched tightly. As she spotted the approaching captain and crew, she hastily met them, taking the child with utmost care into her arms. In such a night, the frail breathing of the infant stood out, as if a determined cry of life itself.