Marta worked at night in the tower of a small airport. One night thick fog covered the runway. All the planes were on the ground except one. A young pilot named Ben was flying alone at night for the first time. He could not see the airport, and he had fuel for only twenty-five minutes.
"I am here, Ben," said Marta in a calm voice. "Tell me about your dog." The next airport was too far away. Then she had an idea. She called the fire station and the workers. Soon eleven vehicles drove onto the runway and stopped in two long lines with their lights on.
"Ben, look for two lines of lights," she said. "I see them!" he cried. "Slowly. Slower." The wheels touched the ground, and the little plane stopped between the lights.
