I was taking my usual morning walk when a garbage truck pulled up beside me. I thought the driver was going to ask for directions. Instead, he showed me a picture of a cute little five-year-old boy.

　　"This is my grandson, Jeremiah," he said. "He's on a life-support system at a Phoenix hospital."

　　Thinking he would next ask for a contribution to his hospital bills, I reached for my wallet. But he wanted something more than money.

　　He said, "I'm asking everybody I can to say a prayer for him. Would you say one for him, please?"

　　I did. And my problems didn't seem like much that day.