We were the only family with children in the restaurant.
I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly eating and
talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, "Hi there." He pounded
his fat baby hands on the highchair tray. His eyes were crinkled in
laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and
giggled with merriment.
I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose
pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of
would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed.
His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so
varicose it looked like a road map. We were too far from him to smell, but
I was sure he smelled. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists.
"Hi there, baby; Hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster," the man said to Erik.
My husband and I exchanged looks, "What do we do?" Erik continued to laugh
and answer, "Hi, hi there." Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked
at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my
beautiful baby!
Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, "Do ya patty
cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek-a-boo!"
Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk. My husband and
I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running
through his repertoire for the admiring skidrow bum, who in turn,
reciprocated with his cute comments. We finally got through the meal and
headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet
him in the parking lot.
The old man sat poised between me and the door. "Lord, just let me out of
here before he speaks to me or Erik," I prayed. As I drew closer to the
man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be
breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a
baby's "pick-me-up" position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled
himself from my arms to the man's!
Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love
relationship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his
tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder. The man's eyes closed, and I saw
tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and
hard labor, cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back. No two beings
have ever loved so deeply for so short a time. I stood awestruck.
The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set
squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, "You take care of
this baby..."
Somehow I managed, "I will," from a throat that contained a stone. He pried
Erik from his chest unwillingly, longingly, as though he were in pain. I
received my baby, and the man said, "God bless you, ma'am, you've given me
my Christmas gift." I said nothing more than a muttered thanks.
With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was
crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, "My God, my God,
forgive me." I had just witnessed Christ's love shown through the innocence
of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a
soul, ... and a mother who saw a suit of clothes.
I am a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not. I felt it was
God asking, "Are you willing to share your son for a moment?" when He
shared His for all eternity. The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded
me, "...unless you change and become like little children, you will not
enter the kingdom of God." (Matthew 18:3)
If this has blessed you, please bless others by sending it on.
"You can tell the true character of a man by the way he treats someone who
can do absolutely nothing for him"
Monday, February 21, 2005
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment