They Forced Me & my Baby Granddaughter Out of the Café and Into the Rain - Then Justice Walked In

She never even got to hold her little girl.

Her boyfriend couldn't handle the responsibility, so he walked away, leaving me as the sole guardian. All he does now is send a small check each month, but it's barely enough for diapers.

Now, it's just me and baby Amy. I named her after my mother.

I may be old and tired at 72, but Amy has no one else in this world but me.

Yesterday started like any other exhausting day. The pediatrician's office had been packed, and Amy had screamed through most of her checkup.

By the time we finally left, my back ached something fierce, and the rain was coming down hard.

I spotted a small café across the street and made a dash for it, covering Amy's stroller with my jacket.

The place was warm and smelled like coffee and cinnamon rolls. I found an empty table near the window and set Amy's stroller beside me.

She started crying again, so I picked her up and cradled her, whispering softly, "Shh, Grandma's here, sweetheart. It's just a little rain. We'll be warm soon."

Before I could even get her bottle ready, a woman at the next table wrinkled her nose and sniffed like she'd smelled something rotten.