"Jesus helped me."

That is the statment Barbara made the other morning. I inquestively looked at her and asked "what! How did he help you?" She looked a little confused and said "Jesus helped me" almost like "you don't know what I'm talking about? I told you Jesus helped me". So I asked "Well, how did Jesus help you?" and she went off on a story that didn't make sence, but I let it go because I didn't want to irritate her by making her tell me again. So tonight I asked her do you remember how you told me Jesus helped you? and she said she did, and I asked How he helped her and she said, "when we were at Lizzies he helped my ears feel all better, we put something in them, and he helped them feel all better" I said Oh, I guess he helped you then. I don't know where this story came from but the way she says it, like it's fact, and I should know what she is talking about, and that she knows Jesus helped her in someway; made me want to write it down. Because somehow it felt very important.