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"A Christmas Gift"
We were the only family with children in the restaurant.
I sat Justin in
a
high chair and noticed everyone was eating and talking.
Suddenly,
Justin
squealed with delight and said, "Hi there." He pounded
his fat baby
hands
on the high chair tray. His eyes were wide with
excitement and his mouth
was
bared in a toothless grin. He wriggled and giggled with
merriment.
I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It
was a man with
a
tattered rag of a coat; dirty, greasy and worn. His 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 tell, 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
Justin. My husband and I exchanged looks, "What do we
do?" Justin
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 know patty cake? Do you know
peek-a-booHey,
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
Justin, 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
Justin," 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, Justin leaned over my arm, reaching with both
arms in a baby's
"pick-me-up" position. Before I could stop him, Justin
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. Justin 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, gently, so
gently, 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 Justin
in his arms for
a
moment, and then 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
Justin 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 Justin
in my arms, I
ran
for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying
and holding
Justin 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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