My Bearded Saviour
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Yesterday I went out for snake food and stopped off at QT for milk and Pepsi. I left the store with my cane over my arm and carrying a very heavy bag. I was lost in thought, trying to figure out how to get my cane in a useable position, when a bearded man asked me if he could help. I stared in surprise for half a second and looked around as if he might be asking someone else. He wasn't asking someone else. He was asking me... looking me straight in the eye. No pity, simply concern.

I had meant to say, "Thank you! I think I've got it." Instead I said, "Thank you!" and thrust my bag at him. "If you could just put it in the passenger seat..." I asked, pointing at the truck 12 feet away.
Which he did. He blew off my second "thank you" with some embarassment, and went into the store. He made my day.

It's always men with beards who come to my rescue. At least when I'm too busy to realize I need rescuing.
When my sister got her hand caught in the escalator? It was a bearded man who freed her. When my car broke down and I had to carry my baby (in a rainstorm, no less!) to a gas station half a mile down the road? A bearded man and his family picked me up. When my sister and I missed the last bus home from Six Flags? A bearded man gave us money to call home.
Every single time, I was trying to fix the problem all on my own. And every single time, a man with a beard helped me out without overdoing it.
I see each one as a miracle. Thanks, guys.