Two summers ago, I was in Covington, KY and Cincinnati, OH with my son and father for a conference relating to his special needs. Everyone was so nice, and friendly and caring. When they said, I'll be praying for you, they meant it. When they asked how we were doing-they really wanted to hear.

We were checking out of the hotel and the clerk asked me how was my stay. I said it was fine-but that the reason I was there had to do with my son's condition. She smiled and said she knew all about children in hospital. Eight years before her son was born with a fatal heart condition. The doctors said that he was not going to live without a heart transplant. She named him Michael.

She sat at his bedside, praying for her baby. The doctors said that they came up with a risky procedure to use some kind of plastic rod to fix one of the veins, but that he could die in surgery, too. She decided to go ahead with the surgery. They were prepping her infant son when another baby died in the NICU.

The mother of the dead infant walked right over to this lady at her son's bedside and said "My son just died, and I heard your baby needs a heart."

She gave her baby's heart to that woman's child. And you know what that mom's baby was named? Michael.

I said to the clerk that she had been graced by an angel, and we both started crying.

You get it Zephyr??? Americans will give their hearts to you. So piss off.

UPDATE: Sgt. Stryker has given it the first good scouring.