This was sent to me by a friend:


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!" as he pounded his
fat baby hands on high chair tray.

His eyes were crinkled in laughter and excitement 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, especially my husband and I
thought the old man was cute. He was obviously a bum and a 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'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 with a gentle love I could not describe, but I felt in my
soul.

No two beings had for 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.

The old man pried Erik from his chest unwillingly, longingly, as though he
were in pain, and handed him to me. 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" over and over.

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 as if God asked, "Are you willing to share
your son for a moment?" And I remembered that 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."




Regards, Gary Metzler
Outta Sight Travel, Inc.
Phone:  772-336-8747
Fax:  772-336-8595
E-mail:  [log in to unmask]
http://www.outtasighttravel.com