Little Black Girl Asks Stephen Curry: ‘Does God Care About People Like Me?’ – His Reply Touched Many
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Does God Care About People Like Me?
Zoe Williams was a quiet nine-year-old girl with colorful braids and expressive eyes that held a world of questions. Walking through the hallways of Lincoln Heights Elementary School in Oakland, California, she clutched her notebook tightly against her chest, as if it were a shield against the invisible weight she carried every day.
“Hey, Zoe,” called her teacher, Miss Ease Martinez, from down the hall. “Don’t forget to take the permission form for next week’s field trip.”
Zoe nodded silently, accepting the paper without looking up. Her grandmother, Gloria Williams, would have to sign yet another form — just one more responsibility among many since she had become Zoe’s sole guardian after the loss of Zoe’s mother two years ago.
At the bus stop that afternoon, Zoe sat alone on the wooden bench. Around her, other children laughed and exchanged colorful invitations to a birthday party. Lily, one of the popular girls, passed by, handing out envelopes with a smile. When she reached Zoe, her voice dropped, “Sorry, Zoe. My mom said I can only invite twelve people.”
Zoe forced a smile, but inside, her heart sank. She had counted sixteen children receiving invitations. Later on the bus, she overheard a whisper from one of the girls: “My mom said we shouldn’t go to the house of people like her. You know, they’re different.”
The words hit Zoe like a punch to the stomach. “People like her.” She had heard such phrases before — in whispers, in glances, in small gestures. At nine years old, Zoe was beginning to understand the harsh reality of how her skin color shaped the way the world saw her.
Back at their small two-bedroom apartment just blocks from New Dawn Baptist Church, Gloria was preparing dinner after a long day working as a nursing assistant and house cleaner.
“How was school today, sweetheart?” Gloria asked, her eyes tired but gentle.
“Normal,” Zoe replied. It was a code her grandmother understood well — something had happened, but Zoe wasn’t ready to talk.
Later that evening, Gloria invited Zoe to Bible study at the church. It was one of the few places where Zoe felt accepted, though she still wrestled with many questions.
Sitting on a wooden pew, Zoe gazed at the stained glass windows. The images showed a light-skinned, blue-eyed Jesus surrounded by white angels and saints. Zoe looked down at her own dark chocolate hands resting on the bench and wondered silently — did God care about people like her?
Pastor Mike, a warm-hearted man with a gentle smile, stepped up to the pulpit. “Today, we’re going to talk about God’s unconditional love,” he began.
Zoe tried to listen, but her mind kept drifting back to the words she had overheard on the bus. If humans made distinctions between people, did God do the same?
After the service, Pastor Mike made an announcement that stirred excitement through the congregation: Steph Curry, the Golden State Warriors star known for his faith and community work, would be attending a charity event at the community center next Saturday.
“Grandma, can we go?” Zoe asked, suddenly animated.
Gloria smiled, seeing the spark of hope in her granddaughter’s eyes for the first time in weeks. “Of course, my love. I think it would be good for you.”
On the way home, Gloria noticed Zoe was unusually quiet.
“What’s bothering you, dear?” she asked gently.
Zoe hesitated before speaking. “Grandma, why are all the pictures of Jesus white?”
Gloria sighed, taking Zoe’s hand. “Different people imagine Jesus looking like them. We don’t know exactly what he looked like, but since he was born in the Middle East, he probably had brown skin. For a long time, white people controlled how stories were told and images were made. But that doesn’t mean God looks like a specific race or loves one group more than another.”
“Are you sure?” Zoe whispered.
“Absolutely,” Gloria said, though she sensed her answer hadn’t fully eased Zoe’s doubts.
That night, Zoe lay in bed, staring out the window at the Oakland sky. A single star shone through the clouds, and she whispered, “God, is it Mom who sends me that star to watch over me? If you can hear Mom, can you hear me too? Does God care about people like me?”
Her tears fell silently as she drifted into sleep, her heart heavy with questions too big for a child to carry alone.
The Saturday morning of the charity event arrived with a buzz of activity at the East Oakland Community Center. Volunteers in green t-shirts hustled to set up tables filled with sneakers, uniforms, and school supplies. Basketball hoops of varying heights were arranged for kids of all ages, and a banner declared: Believe in Your Potential — Charity Event with Steph Curry.
Zoe and Gloria arrived early. Gloria volunteered to help organize, while Zoe was tasked with distributing sports equipment to the other children.
“Remember, Zoe,” Gloria said, adjusting her granddaughter’s collar, “we’re here to serve, not just to see Mr. Curry. That’s what our faith teaches us — to serve others as Jesus would.”
Zoe nodded, though her mind raced with anticipation.
As Zoe organized sneakers by size, she kept glancing toward the gym doors, hoping to catch sight of Steph Curry. Finally, the doors opened to a wave of excited children and volunteers.
Steph Curry entered, wearing jeans and a simple event t-shirt, his smile warm and genuine. He climbed the stage and addressed the crowd.
“I’m so happy to be here today,” he said. “This event isn’t about me — it’s about you, our community, and how we can serve one another.”
The gym erupted in applause.
After his speech, Curry mingled with the children, talking with each one, asking their names, ages, and dreams. Slowly, he approached Zoe’s station.
“Hello, sneaker team,” he joked, bending down to their level. “How’s everyone doing today?”
The children responded excitedly, but Zoe stayed quiet.
“And what’s your name?” Curry asked, looking directly at her.
“Zoe Williams,” she whispered.
“Zoe — what a beautiful name,” he said. “Do you like basketball?”
Zoe nodded. “I watch all the Warriors games with my grandma.”
Curry’s face softened. “Your grandma must be a very special person.”
“She is,” Zoe smiled. “She’s been taking care of me since my mom went to heaven.”
Steph Curry’s expression changed — it wasn’t pity, but understanding.
“My mother is a very special person in my life too,” he said gently. “And I’m sure your mom is proud of the strong girl you are.”
Soon, a question-and-answer session began. Dozens of children lined up to ask Curry about his favorite ice cream, training routines, and childhood memories. Zoe watched quietly, her question weighing heavily on her heart.
Marcus, one of the event coordinators, noticed her hesitation.
“Zoe, aren’t you going to ask a question?” he encouraged.
Zoe shook her head. “It’s too personal.”
“It’s a great question,” Marcus insisted. “I’m sure he’d love to hear it.”
Finally, after almost thirty minutes, Marcus raised his hand.
“Actually, I have a young lady here with an important question, but she’s too shy to come forward.”
All eyes turned to Zoe, who froze.
Steph Curry smiled warmly. “Come on, Zoe. I’d love to hear your question.”
With trembling legs, Zoe approached the microphone. The silence felt deafening.
“Hello again, Zoe,” Curry said gently.
Taking a deep breath, Zoe spoke into the microphone, her voice small but clear.
“I have a question about God… Do you think God cares about people like me? People who are black?”
The gym fell silent. Mothers covered their mouths, surprised by the depth of the question from such a young child.
Steph Curry’s eyes widened, then he did something no one expected. He stood, walked over to Zoe, and knelt to her eye level. The microphone was gone, but the gym was so quiet everyone could hear.
“Zoe,” he said softly, “can I tell you something?”
Zoe nodded, eyes fixed on his.
“When I was little, maybe a bit older than you, I asked myself the same question.”
A murmur ran through the crowd.
“My father was a professional basketball player, and I grew up privileged, but I still felt different. People saw only my skin color before knowing my heart.”
He paused, then continued.
“One night, I asked my mother something similar. She took me outside, pointed to the stars, and said, ‘Steph, each star was created by God. Each one is different — some bright, some dim, some red, some blue — but God knows each star by name. And He knows you, not by your skin color, but by your name and your heart.’”
Steph’s eyes glistened with emotion.
“Have you read the Bible, Zoe?”
She nodded shyly. “My grandma reads with me sometimes.”
“Then you might know this verse from Samuel: ‘Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.’ God doesn’t care about the color of our skin. He cares about who we are inside — the love we have, the kindness we show.”
Steph shared how many people told him he was too small or weak to succeed in basketball.
“But I repeated to myself, ‘I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.’ It’s a verse from Philippians.”
He removed a black silicone bracelet from his wrist, engraved with those words, and gently slid it onto Zoe’s wrist.
“It’s too big for you now, but I want you to have it. Whenever you doubt yourself, look at this and remember you can do all things.”
Zoe’s eyes lit up — this was the greatest treasure she’d ever received.
“God doesn’t just care about people like you — He created you exactly as you are, with that beautiful hair, that beautiful skin, that beautiful heart, for a special purpose,” Steph said.
A tear rolled down Zoe’s cheek.
“In Genesis, it says God created us in His image — all of us. White, black, Asian, Hispanic — we reflect different aspects of God’s glory. The world would be sad if we were all the same, wouldn’t it?”
Zoe smiled.
“I know sometimes people can be cruel or make you feel less important because of how you look. But those people are wrong. Completely wrong.”
Steph’s own tears fell freely.
“Whenever you doubt, look at this bracelet and remember — God loves you. And if anyone says otherwise, tell them Steph Curry disagrees.”
He opened his arms, and Zoe threw herself into a hug.
The gym erupted in applause. Mothers wiped tears, fathers cleared throats, and children watched in wonder.
The video of this moment, captured by a young journalist, Tanya Roberts, went viral overnight, touching millions of hearts across the country.
Steph Curry later called Gloria to invite Zoe to join a new mentoring program, Loved by God, for children struggling with racial identity and faith.
He also offered Zoe a full scholarship to attend any school she wished.
In the months that followed, Zoe’s story inspired churches, schools, and communities to embrace diversity and inclusion.
At her school, a club called Valued by God was formed, and even Lily, the girl who had excluded Zoe, signed up.
Zoe and Gloria were honored guests at a Warriors game, where athletes wore “I can do all things” bracelets as symbols of faith and acceptance.
A year later, Zoe stood in Sunday school, sharing her story with a younger child named Aaliyah, who asked, “Does God care about people like me?”
Kneeling to Aaliyah’s level, Zoe smiled and said, “God made us exactly as we are for a special purpose. And you can do all things through Him who strengthens you.”
Gloria watched, tears in her eyes, knowing that a simple question had sparked a wave of hope and change far beyond what anyone could have imagined.
End
