A baby's Hug

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 skid-row 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.

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. How did God feel when he put his baby in our
arms 2000 years ago.


The
ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, 'To enter the Kingdom of God , we
must become as little children.'

If
this has blessed you, please bless others by sending it on. Sometimes, it takes
a child to remind us of what is really important. We must always remember who we
are, where we came from and, most importantly, how we feel about others. The
clothes on your back or the car that you drive or the house that you live in
does not define you at all; it is how you treat your fellow man that identifies
who you are.

This
one is a keeper.

'It
is better to be liked for the true you, than to be loved for who people think
you are......'(Amen! )

I believe
we could all take lessons from God’s little
children