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 seated and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, "Hi there." 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, 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 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 t he 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, 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."