Well, shoot.  I thought this was worth forwarding.  I'm sorry.

Phil.


> Subject: Tender Story of Love - A Baby's Hug
>
> A Baby's Hug
>
> We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in
> a highchair 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 wa! ved 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'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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