I reached my daughter just as the man knelt beside her.

“Emily, honey, are you okay?”

She turned toward me.

“Mommy, look! He’s a real motorcycle man!”

The stranger immediately stood.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten anybody.”

His voice was deep but surprisingly gentle.

I looked at him carefully.

“That’s okay. I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t bothering you.”

He glanced toward Emily.

“She’s not bothering me at all.”

My daughter tugged at his leather vest.

“What’s your name?”

The man smiled.

“Daniel.”

“Daniel what?”

“Daniel Brooks.”

Emily nodded thoughtfully.

“I’m Emily Mitchell.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Mitchell.”

She giggled.

Nobody had ever called her Miss Mitchell before.

Daniel offered his enormous hand.

Emily placed her tiny fingers in his palm.

They shook hands as though they were closing an important business deal.

Then she looked at his tattoos.

“Did those hurt?”

Daniel chuckled.

“Some of them.”

“Why did you get so many?”

“Because every one reminds me of something important.”

Emily pointed toward his silver cross.

“What about that?”

Daniel looked down.

“That reminds me of someone I loved very much.”

I noticed his smile fade.

Before I could ask anything, Emily spoke again.

“Do you have a little girl?”

Daniel became very still.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then he nodded.

“I did.”

Emily tilted her head.

“What happened to her?”

I touched her shoulder.

“Honey, that’s a personal question.”

But Daniel gently shook his head.

“It’s alright.”

He lowered himself onto one knee again.

“My daughter’s name was Grace.”

Emily smiled.

“That’s a pretty name.”

“It sure is.”

“How old is she?”

Daniel took a slow breath.

“She was eight.”

My stomach tightened.

He said was.

Not is.

Emily noticed too.

“Did she go to heaven?”

Daniel looked surprised.

Then he nodded.

“Yes, sweetheart. She did.”

Emily was quiet for a moment.

Then she reached out and touched his tattooed arm.

“I’m sorry your little girl died.”

I watched his face change.

The huge man swallowed hard.

“Thank you, Emily.”

Then she asked another question.

“Did Grace like motorcycles?”

Daniel smiled through his sadness.

“More than anything in the world.”

Emily leaned forward.

“Really?”

He nodded.

“And she always wanted to ride one with me.”

My daughter looked down at her wheelchair.

Then she whispered something so quietly I almost didn’t hear it.

“I wish I could ride one too.”

Daniel stared at her.

And suddenly, I realized that this enormous stranger understood something about my daughter that most people never noticed.

He understood what it meant to have a dream that seemed impossible.

END PART 2