Every night, it takes me a while to breathe easy – always calculating whether my company’s earnings can stretch just enough. I never leave work until every staff member has gone and I’ve checked every corner of the compound to make sure it’s safe. Only then do I finally step away.
Most nights, I don’t get home until after midnight. My routine is simple… I pass by the same shop along the main road, hoping to grab something to eat, since there are no restaurants or stores near the company. No matter how late I arrive, the shopkeeper always waits for me to pick up food before shutting down and calling it a night.
I live alone, and my house is quite far from town. I have no neighbours close by. Most of the food I store ends up rotting or goes to the dogs. It breaks my heart to think that there are hungry children out there, while good food is being wasted.
Before I left for work the next morning, I prayed, “Lord, please let me help someone today.”
Work went on as usual, and no one needed me. Even the employees who sometimes asked for a loan didn’t say anything that day.
By the time I clocked out, it had been a heavy workload. I was exhausted, my stomach empty for days. Around midnight, I jumped in my car and headed for my usual shop, driving through rain so thick I could barely see the road.
Normally, I would arrive, and the shopkeeper would hand me my food and take the money. But this night, I got out of the car and walked in, circling the store with no clear idea of what to get.
Without thinking, I picked up a can of milk. The shopkeeper chuckled, “Wow, do you have a baby at home?” I stood at the counter, confused, wondering why I even needed a can of milk – I don’t have any children.
Still, something told me, “Just pay for it and take it to the car.” So I did.
Driving back, I suddenly felt drawn to take a different street, one I didn’t usually travel. A chill ran through me – was it fear? Or something guiding me?
I stopped, uncertain, but something inside said, “Keep going.” I restarted the car and crept forward.
That’s when I saw a house alone on the hillside. It was the only one around, surrounded by tall trees and bushes. A flickering lamp glowed in the window. I pulled in without even knowing why.
Then a voice whispered in my mind, “Take the milk and go knock.”
So I got out, grabbed the can, and called out, “Hello? Is anyone here?” I heard footsteps approaching the door. It opened, and I immediately heard a baby crying loudly, as if it had been going on for hours, and the soft voice of a mother trying to soothe him, “Shhhh, shhhh, I’m so sorry, my boy.”
“Can I help you?” the father asked. I replied quietly, “I’m not sure if you need this can of milk…”
Before I could finish, the father grabbed it and rushed to where the baby was crying. Moments later, silence. No more crying.
I turned to leave, but the couple came after me.
“Are you an angel?” they asked.
“No,” I replied.
They were crying as they told me, “Sir, tonight we prayed for a miracle – that somehow, we could get milk to feed our child who hasn’t stopped crying from hunger. We were close to breaking down completely. Then we heard a knock. Thank you. You were the answer to our prayer.”
I returned home that night with a heart overflowing in thanks to God. He had led me straight to the ones who needed help.
From that night on, I’ve never stopped visiting that family – always showing up with a full bag of groceries. But I’ll never forget the can of milk in the middle of the night, brought by a tired man just trying to breathe.
