The veteran was mad and sounded like he wanted to take my head off at the Farmer’s Market, where I go each week with my daughters. “Let me ask you a question,” he said through clenched teeth. “Why do you preach to little kids; it just confuses them.” I hadn’t shared my faith with this guy at all, but he does see me each Thursday handing out gospel tracts and talking about Jesus. “I don’t preach to little kids—” “I’VE SEEN YOU!” he interrupted rudely. I thought to myself, hmmm…have I witnessed to little kids? I don’t think so, but it certainly is possible. If I had, the reason would be the same; they are headed for Hell too, if they don’t know the Savior. I tried to explain my motivation. “Well, let me answer—” “THAT’S ENOUGH!” he shouted, “WE’RE DONE!” I tried to explain again, “You don’t want me to answer—” “THAT’S ALL. WE’RE THROUGH!” My daughter D.D. was mad. “I didn’t like the way he talked to you Dad.” “That’s okay, hon,” I reassured her, “he wasn’t mad at me, he was mad at Jesus. We are to love him.” “Love him?” “Yes. Jesus says to love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, pray for those who mistreat you, and bless those who curse you.” “We have to love him?” “Yes.” “I just don’t like anyone talking to my Daddy that way.”
-Steve Sanchez