“I probably should have known better than to take my 8-month-old daughter, Allie, grocery shopping after she refused to take a nap, but I was hoping she’d fall asleep as I strolled the aisles…no such luck. She let out ear-piercing wails as I rushed through the baby-food aisle trying to do my shopping in hyper speed. Customers eyed me with an embarrassing blend of pity and annoyance as my blood pressure skyrocketed. God, please help me, I prayed, feeling on the verge of a mini breakdown.
“Allie screamed all the way to the car where I loaded up the groceries then stood frazzled and just rocked her. Just as I got ready to have a crying jag myself, a young man with a scraggly beard, long braided hair and colorful tattoos approached me. He had a sparkle in his caramel-colored eyes and a comforting smile. “Looks like you need help,” he said, leaning in to stroke Allison’s cheek.
“I usually pulled her back from strangers, but an odd sense of calm told me he was special. He took her tiny hand and began to gently sing: ‘Jesus loves me, this I know. For the Bible tells me so. Little ones to Him belong. We are weak, but He is strong.’
“My anxious heart melted as Allie relaxed, laid her head against my shoulder and closed her eyes. In tears, I began to sing with him and we stood there, two strangers singing ‘Jesus Loves Me,’ as peace filled my heart. When it was over, I stared in awe as my answered prayer got onto a Harley, fastened his helmet, winked and drove away.”
—Beverly Wynn, 34, Philadelphia