Margret had knee surgery when she was six. Some days before the surgery she was scheduled to have blood work done, so we went to the blood lab at the hospital and did that.
She was fine with the blood draws, and liked the phlebotomist.
Taking her hand, we walked the short distance to the cashier's window. While we were standing there, sorting out insurance and settling the copay, I noticed that she was not at my side.
I could see into the lab from where I stood, and there was Margret, next to the same phlebotomist who had done her blood draw, and a large and stocky gentleman. The gentleman seemed to be reluctant to have his blood draw done.
Finished at the cashier, I hurried over.
Margret was talking to the man. She showed him her bandaid, and took his hand. She said "See, you'll be ok!"
While he was distracted, the phlebotomist inserted the needle.
I took Margret's hand, and apologized for her interruption. The gentleman looked bemused, and the nurse smiled. Seems he had a longstanding fear of needles, and Margret had shown up at the perfect moment to make his blood draw easier.
Just another case of "And a little child shall lead them."