We were the only family
with children in the restaurant.. I sat Erik in
a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly
sitting and
talking.
Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said,
"Hi." He pounded his fat baby hands on the high
chair 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" .
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 and
kinship.. 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,
lovingly and 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 was 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, "To enter the Kingdom of God,
we must become as
little
children."
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